


summer skeletons (reworked)

by bornslippy



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016)
Genre: AU where it's just dennis, Abuse, Alternate Universe, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Violence, dennis is awkward, reuploaded because im literally stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-10-09 16:05:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornslippy/pseuds/bornslippy
Summary: this is a reupload of my fic summer skeletons which i temporarily took down because of some stuff.  Each chapter has been slightly rewritten.Casey is a high school student who makes friends with the schools angry and strange maintenance man, Dennis.(fill for the split kink meme)





	1. 01

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey's day ends with an awkward encounter.

Class comes to an end after a brief explanation of next weeks assignment and the classroom becomes busy with noise once again. However, Casey doesn’t hurry to grab her things. She only pauses briefly to check the time on her phone before gathering herself and her things. Everyone in the room is in a rush to hurry out of the classroom and head home, but not her. For Casey, there’s no reason to rush home because there’s nothing to rush for. 

She decides to bide her time a little more and actually study for the upcoming geometry test that’s looming ahead of her in just a few days. Any other day she wouldn’t care, school being at the very bottom of a short list of priorities, but the studying is a good excuse to push back returning home right away. She shoots a text to her uncle.

_study group. staying late call you when im ready._

There’s still a few students who are still lingering in the doorway, their loud laughter interrupted as Casey shoulders past them to make her way to the school’s library. 

The library is small but it’s more importantly quiet and secluded, the door doing its best to seal away the noise from the hallway outside. There’s a few other students clumped into their respective friend groups huddled around some of the tables and they chat and joke among each other quietly. Casey recognizes a few people but she doesn’t look at them as a she walks past, choosing instead to sit at an empty table further away before setting down her bag and rummaging for what little notes she’d bothered to taken in class.

It hasn’t been more than 15 minutes of struggling to focus before her gaze breaks away from the paper and drifts around the room, fidgeting with her pen between her thumb and index. There’s a glare of light that glints across the glass of the library door that snags her attention and her gaze drifts upward.

A man who’s very obviously not a student walks into the library and she watches half-heartedly as he proceeds to set up a step ladder as quietly as he can underneath a dimmed fluorescent lightbulb. 

Casey glances at the embroidered name tag on his charcoal grey coveralls. _Dennis._ She doesn’t recognize the face, but can recall the students gossiping about a strange maintenance man before. Rumors are only rumors, Casey knows this fact extremely well, but she can’t help but think about the things said about him in the past. Rude, strict, an “asshole.” She wonders if any of these are true, but judging by his steely eyes and stoic expression she wouldn’t be surprised if they were. 

The bulb is right beside a table where some of the students are sitting and Dennis locks the ladder in place before turning to one of the boys sitting at the table. “You should move.” It’s more of an order, less of a suggestion and the group of teenagers all glance at each other awkwardly before reluctantly getting up, bookbags slung halfheartedly over shoulders as they leave the library. Casey can’t help but listen to them as they walk by her to get to the exit.

“Fucking asshole.” A boy scoffs, opening the door for one of the girls to let her out first, flipping her long, dark hair to her other shoulder. “He creeps me out.” Her voice is hushed and low. The glass door shuts behind them but Casey can hear their muffled laughter as they walk away.

She isn’t a fan of eavesdropping, or gossip in general, but she finds herself almost curious about Dennis. Watching him as subtly as she can with her chin resting on the ball of her hand, peering over the tips of her fingers. She’s heard teachers complain about how impossibly difficult he can be when it comes to keeping to himself, keeping conversations at work brief and about work only. No one really knows much about him except for what they come up with. In a way, Casey finds herself relating. He sighs, running a tired hand across his shaved head before descending the ladder, holding the dead fluorescent tube in his other hand. 

He’s weird, but he fixes things when they break and that’s all that matters. It’s no one’s business but his own, she guesses.

Minutes soon gather into an hour and a half and the library slowly begins to empty out. Dennis has left long ago, something as simple as changing a light bulb only takes a few minutes and the once dim corner now is filled with pale light from the new one. There’s notes and problems scrawled across her notebook now, and she’s already texted her uncle that she’d be staying a little later to study, so for now she has all the time in the world. 

Casey holds alone time sacred, a rarity. There were times when she was younger that she craved the company of others, trying to hang out with different people before realizing at the end of the day, solitude was a blessing. Just her, her study playlist and the soft hum of the air conditioner as it clicks to life.

She’s drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of keys swinging on their ring and looks up, the door to the library half open. It’s Dennis once again, and she realizes just how late it’s gotten. He’s making his evening rounds now, making sure everything’s locked and secured. His large hand pauses over the light switch when he notices her, brows knitting together. 

“Uh... Excuse me, Miss?” He asks, clearing his throat. His voice is rough and deep. His politeness is forced and clumsy and he looks down when she makes eye contact with him. “I’m sorry- I lost track of time.” Casey stammers as she quickly gets up, shoving papers and her half-empty water bottle into her bag, making her way to the door.

“What are you still doing here? Are you waiting on someone?” Dennis asks, and she stops a couple of feet away from him. 

Up close she can see just how strong he is and the sting of his blue eyes. “Yeah. I’ll get out of your way.” Casey says. There’s a moment of awkwardness in which neither of them move, Dennis paused like he wants to say something. However, he doesn’t, simply steps aside and pushes the door open for her. Her face feels like it’s beginning to burn from the clumsiness of the situation but she simply smiles thinly and walks past with a quiet ‘Thank you.’

“Goodnight.” Casey calls casually over her shoulder as she walks down the hall. Her house isn’t that far from the school, she’ll call her uncle and just wait outside for him. A familiar feeling rises in her stomach as she thinks about going home. It starts deep in the pit of her stomach and feels heavier than lead, a thick seed of anxiety. Casey pushes it away as soon as it manifests and steps outside of the school.

It’s already September but the heat from the summer sun still lingers and rises off of the concrete despite the chill of approaching autumn that creeps through her plaid shirt. She’s glad that she hadn’t worn the hoodie underneath it today and fidgets with the hem of her tee as she draws out her phone. Casey stares at the unlocked screen, hesitating to call.

Home. Everyone is always so excited for the day to be over so they can go home and for the longest time, Casey never understood. Since childhood, the thought of having to go back home and live through whatever the evening had to offer her evoked an overwhelming feeling of dread inside of her. It’s become easier to deal with the older she’s gotten, but the fear is always there deep inside. 

She steadies herself with a slow breath and presses the phone icon on her screen, pulling up her uncle’s contact and pressing the call button.


	2. 02

It’s mid-afternoon when Casey makes her way to the library again the next day. The halls are busy and noisy and she finds herself agitated when she notices that the library is the same way. She ponders her options for a moment before pivoting on her heel and heading towards the exit, deciding she’ll wait outside tonight. There’s been a slight cold snap overnight and she welcomes it, summer having been unforgiving. It’s much quieter outside and Casey sits down at one of the few tables that are lined up along the side of the school building, setting her bag down beside her feet and pulling out her phone. Reluctant to return home, she scrolls down twitter and watches a few videos, reads a few threads to kill time. Her phone vibrates gently in her palm and her eyes glance down to see a text from her uncle. 

_”Cars busted, gonna be late again. sorry”_

The notification on her screen waits for her patiently before the screen automatically dims and Casey finds herself staring into her own reflection on the dark glass.

So be it. The weather was more than fine and she had all the time in the world to wait as far as she was concerned. Casey leans onto her elbow and gazes up at the sky, deep blue seemingly endless above her. This time of year, the transition from late summer into fall was always special. 

It’s this time of year that sparks a prickle of excited nostalgia inside of her. It’s the beginning of deer season, after all. Once her father died, Casey quickly lost her interest in hunting. Perhaps it wasn’t so much a loss of interest, but her lack of desire to go on extended trips into the forest with uncle John. Yet still, her internal clock still ticks and rings every year when fall rolls around, an echo in the back of her mind. 

The cold wind gusts and sends leaves stirring in a lazy circle where they’ve gathered in the corner of the brick walls, drawing her out of her mind and back into her surroundings.

The glare from the sun overhead is broken when she finds a shadow cast long by the afternoon light scattered across the concrete. Looking up, Casey recognizes Dennis, once again clad in his neatly pressed work uniform. 

Broom in one hand and the long handle of a dustpan in his other, his attention is occupied by an empty aluminum can and the plastic wrap of a cigarette carton. Casey doesn’t say anything to him, simply watches as he clinically sweeps the litter into the dustpan and inspects a little further up the sidewalk.

She briefly recalls conversations she’s overheard about how anal he is about cleanliness and she finds it a little amusing to see it in action, like observing some sort of mythical cryptid in its natural habitat. When he looks up and catches her eye he blinks, almost startled when he realizes she’s been watching him. The silence quickly becomes thick between them.

“You’re alone again?” Dennis finally speaks. Casey’s brow furrows a little, it’s not entirely unusual for students to be by themselves, especially at the end of the day. She’s certainly no exception. Her expression softens as her posture shifts, pulling at the cuff of her hoodie’s sleeve. 

Casey quietly nods her head, tucking a strand of dark brown hair back behind her ear where it had fallen from. “Um, yeah. I guess so.” She said, the toes of her shoes scuffling idly on the concrete. “No ones... Giving you trouble are they?” Dennis asks her carefully and she stares at him in faint confusion. “No, nothing like that. I just really don’t mind being by myself, honestly.” Casey assures him, finding it strange that he’s even concerned about it in the first place.

She knows all the rumors about him, but she wonders if he knows any of the rumors about her. Wild. Anger issues. Poor behavior. Scattered grades. Rebellious. Getting into trouble was an excuse to feel something, an excuse to get away from it all, despite the reputation that came with it. Dennis wasn’t the only one people gossiped about. 

He nods slowly and runs a hand across the top of his shaven head before letting it fall to his side. “I’m Dennis.” He introduces himself despite the fact he’s wearing an embroidered name patch over his left pec, and extends his hand to her. She hesitates for only a moment before she lets a thin smile cross her lips then takes his hand in her much smaller one, shaking it gently. “Casey.” She says quietly.

“You must get good grades if you’re always staying late to study.” Dennis comments, shifting his weight uneasily from one leg to the next. “Not really.. I only study if I really need to pass something.” Casey shrugs as she speaks, trying to study his features without making direct eye contact. “Besides, there’s not much of a reason to go home.” She adds, straightening her shoulders momentarily to stretch her back before slumping again, elbows resting on the table. 

Dennis seems to absorb her last words, brow twitching. “I understand that.” His voice is quiet and he seems to pick and choose his words. She smiles politely yet again and wonders if he really did understand. Casey knew most people couldn’t empathize with her. For Casey, memories of home and childhood were a cross she had to bear that many wouldn’t understand, a slick muddy pit that was impossible to climb out of.

She could recall the several times she ran away, and the several punishments that were severe enough that she wouldn’t try to attempt another time.

Yet, she wasn’t dense enough to believe that she was the only person who had ever suffered but it was easy enough to shrug your shoulders and tell someone you knew how they feel. Something about Dennis made her indecisive, curious almost. She would have made up some excuse to walk away from anyone else after this sort of conversation and yet she was still here, staring back into his eyes as he stood before her wondering if he really did understand. 

She glances at her phone to check and see if her uncle has texted her again and sighs quietly when she’s greeted only by her phone’s wallpaper. “If you want, I can wait out here with you.” Dennis breaks the silence she hadn’t realized had fallen on them once again. When she glances back at him he almost looks anxious, like he was instantly regretting the offer. “It’s just… It’s getting darker earlier and all. I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving you out here in the dark.” He adds quickly, looking away and habitually rubs the back of his neck. 

Casey is quiet at first, searching for her words. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you.” Dennis clears his throat and shifts his grip on his broom, beginning to turn away. “Have a nice night.” He says gruffly.

“No-” Casey blurts out. Dennis pauses, slowly turning back to face her with tense shoulders, left hand gripping the handle of the broom and dustpan with bright white knuckles. “Actually, I’d…” She pauses. “I’d like that.” 

Dennis has a faint look of genuine surprise across his stoic features and Casey shifts a little, the diamond grid texture of the table’s seat becoming uncomfortable. “Usually I’m by myself, it’d be nice to change things up.” Casey speaks again like she’s trying to reassure a threatened animal and she scoots over, patting the bench next to her. 

Much to her surprise, he reluctantly sits down.

He’s not unbearably close, and carefully leans the dustpan and broom against the table before knitting his fingers together and letting them fall between his knees. It’s suddenly quiet between them again and Casey feels unbearably stupid. She could have easily just blown him off and found somewhere else to wait and now she’s forced herself into this situation. 

Casey bites her lip gently before turning to face him. If there was one thing her father taught her before he died, it was to be polite. “It must suck having to clean up after highschoolers all day.” She shuffles her feet quietly, clawing for any subject to talk about. He glances momentarily at her and nods subtly. “I like to keep the place clean.” Dennis’ sentences are short and sweet, to the point and nothing else.

His eyes drift from Casey, across the table and then fall to the ground. “Thank god. It would suck if the maintenance didn’t give a shit.” Casey says casually before tucking the same strand of hair back behind her ear. A faint smile, or what looks like one, pulls at the corners of Dennis’ mouth and he adjusts his glasses. 

“What did you do before you came here?” Casey is straining to keep the conversation going, but she is genuinely curious about where he had been before here. His muscular build and shaved head makes her wonder if he had some type of military background. “I worked at the zoo.” He answers quietly. Her eyes light up at the thought of working with animals. “The pay is a little better here.” Dennis adds to answer what would be a potential next question. 

“That must have been nice. I would love to work with animals.” Casey feels like she sounds stupid, like some sort of middle school kid rambling about how bad she wants to grow up and be a vet or something. She’d thought about it before. “It was the same stuff I did here. A little more security work involved though.” Dennis presses his thumbs together, idly fidgeting. 

She can definitely envision it and his mannerisms begin to make more sense. Casey finds herself easily sliding into conversation with him now, a task that she’s found very difficult before. Socializing was something that she often found difficult before, especially when she was younger. She often felt like an alien, coming down to everyone’s strange planet to make awkward contact whenever she made attempts to befriend other kids from the school. 

Now suddenly there was this man, probably double her age, sitting beside her having a painfully awkward conversation with her and she felt like she’d met someone from her own planet, in a way. It was weird. He was weird. Casey herself felt like that was okay because she might be a little weird too.

There’s a distant purr of a familiar truck engine that rolls closer and Casey glances up to see her uncle’s familiar beat up pickup truck . Casey grabs her book bag and lifts it, too lazy to pull it all the way onto her shoulder. “That’s my ride.” She pauses, finding herself caught in his gaze. It’s not that she hasn’t seen blue eyes before, they’re nothing special- but his seem to draw her in.

“Thanks for waiting with me, Dennis.” She adds, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly upwards and he nods. “Mhm. Goodnight.” He murmurs, also rising from his seat and picking up his broom once more. Whoever came to pick her up had made good timing, a glance at his watch letting him know it was already time to start locking up. 

Casey makes her way to the old Ford and the hinges on the door squeal stubbornly as she climbs in. “Hey sweetheart.” Her uncle greets her normally and she says nothing as she buckles herself in, resting her elbow on the ledge on the door. “Sorry I’m late, I really need to get this thing traded in for something better.” Casey only half listens as he speaks, the truck growling away down the parking lot. “Mmhm.” She offers only a half-hearted answer, pressing her forehead against the thin pane of glass separating her from the outside world that speeds by.

Rows of trees pass by, leaves beginning to turn into warm striking shades of red, yellow and orange. Slowly, and without warning, her eyes slide shut and her mind comes alive.

She thinks about Dennis. She thinks about his shaved head and deep chest, thinks about his rough hands, thinks about him climbing up the step ladder in the library. Strange Dennis who offered to sit with her and watch the sky turn cornflower blue to the color of a bruise. 

For a second, and only a second, she thinks it’s strange to think this much about anyone- let alone someone she’s just met. It’s somehow refreshing, being able to sit and talk to someone without fear of ulterior motives. There’s something about him that’s gentle underneath the rocky waves of his exterior, something that makes her feel like she can actually talk to him. She wonders where he goes home to at night, _who_ he goes home to at night. Does he have a wife? Kids? She tries to envision what his family is like, but the faces are blurred and she can’t even begin to imagine their forms in her mind.

Slowly, Casey sits up straight in her chair, pulling her head away from the window and her thoughts away from Dennis.


	3. 03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> casey catches a ride.

The air is cool but the sun that beams down directly over Dennis is uncomfortably warm. The breeze will stir occasionally, offering blessed relief from the faint heat as he twists a bolt back into place at the base of the metal beam supporting the bleachers. 

He sits back for a moment and retrieves a cloth from his pocket to wipe at the faint perspiration that’s beginning to bead on his forehead. Dennis enjoys his job, he enjoys feeling useful and being able to fix broken things. It gives him a sense of calm control that he feels he lacks in other areas of his life.

Memories of the afternoon before drift back to him and he exhales slowly through his nose. He feels like an idiot for going out of his way to speak to her and he’s convinced himself he either scared the hell out of her or completely embarrassed himself. Probably both, he decides and his teeth shift against each other as he clenches his jaw, trying to guide his thoughts elsewhere. 

She’s plain but has an unusual prettiness to her, round hazel eyes peering at him still a palpable memory fresh in his mind. Did she go home that night and message her friends about the weird guy who sat next to her? Her boyfriend perhaps? He knows it’s probably true and decides that it’s best just to not think about it. She’s evoked a sense of curiosity in him though and he _wants_ to talk to her, wants their paths to accidentally cross yet again. 

Dennis tries to recall a time where he’s felt this genuinely interested to know more about someone, yet there’s nothing in his memory that he can dredge. But what if she hadn’t minded? It’s a fleeting thought that flashes through his mind for only an instant but sets his chest buzzing, another foreign feeling. Casey had stopped him when he had turned to walk away, told him to sit and stay. She could have let him walk off, but she stopped him. Dennis refuses to mistake politeness for any more than that and rises up from his kneeling position on the concrete.

He wonders briefly about her reluctance to go home. Was it typical high-schoolism, wanting to dodge responsibility in favor of hanging out with friends? Dennis can recall back when he was her age, the thought of home something that invoked a cold feeling in the palms of his hands. Memories of home and his mother are something that still press on him, anger having long since solidified into a dull ache deep in his chest and for a moment, he wonders if Casey could understand. He hopes for her sake that she can’t. 

His mother has been gone from his life for a very long time now, yet he still finds himself having to remind himself that she really is gone. He still finds himself on his hands and knees in the bathroom, scrubbing the caulk and grout of the tile, waiting to feel the familiar freezing rush of fear when he hears his name being shouted down the hall. 

But no one sees the cleanliness between each white tile except him and no one calls his name. He’s alone. 

Clearing his throat, Dennis quickly gathers up some extra washers that he hadn’t used and neatly consolidates them into a small plastic bag before placing them in the box at his feet. He has a little bit of time and the field beside him is quiet besides the gentle hum of crickets in the browning grass. 

Casey isn’t new to skipping class, missing a day or two of economics really wasn’t going to kill her. Taking a shortcut across the parking lot, she heads towards her usual hiding spot. The bleachers weren’t exactly a hiding spot per say, but during the day when everyone was in school it was the perfect spot. Casey had hidden behind there and watched the clouds for hours many times before to evade obnoxious classmates and overbearing teachers.

Half-dead grass killed by the summer sun crunches quietly under Casey’s sneakers until she finally hits concrete. When she turns the corner and falls under the shade of the metal bleachers she notices that someone’s already sitting there. There’s a lapse of mental function when she recognizes Dennis standing in front of her, polishing the handle of a socket wrench calmly in the shade. He looks equally as surprised to see her in front of him, both looking like they’re poised to flee at any second. They stand still.

There’s a moment of brief silence before Casey decides to step forward. “Hey.” She says, forcing down her nerves in favor of a casual tone. Before the past two days she had only seen Dennis every now and then, a face lost in the school’s faculty. Now she feels like she runs into him around every corner. 

“Hey.” Dennis responds and he feels like it sounds weird when he says it, like everything else he says. “Are you working on something? I don’t wanna interrupt.” Casey says when she spies the various tools. “No, no I just finished.” Dennis assures. “Then do you mind if I sit? I’m kind of trying to kill some time.” Casey steps a little closer to him as she speaks and he looks back at her like she has a second head.

“Go ahead.” He answers with a small nod and Casey sets her bag down before sitting down beside him on the concrete, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed. For a second she feels like she’s overstepped her boundaries and wonders if she should make an excuse to leave. Before she can, he sits down next to her.

Dennis pulls his wrist up to look at his watch then glances over at her. “Your class lets out a little early.” He notes, voice quiet and deep. Casey’s mouth compresses and she fidgets with a loose string on the sleeve of her hoodie. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” She says, turning to him and propping her head up on her fist, raising a wry brow. 

Dennis doesn’t look at her but Casey thinks she can almost see a faint smile twitch across his features. “I see...” He nods quietly before taking off his glasses and rubbing them on a small microfiber cloth. “I like to sit out here, especially on a day like today. It’s quiet.” She says, shifting her position and placing her hands in her lap as she glances up at the sky. Fat little cumulus clouds roll lazily in lines across the pale blue of the sky, occasionally crossing over the sun. “It’s... Nice.” Dennis agrees with her, sliding his glasses back into their original position on his face. He feels like he’s unengaging and desperately begins searching for a topic that’s not as boring as the weather.

“Did you get home alright yesterday?” He suddenly asks, turning to face her. Casey takes her gaze away from the expanse of the sky to look at him and she nods softly “Yeah. The truck’s been having some trouble recently but I got back alright.” She says as she tucks the same stubborn strand of long, dark hair back behind her ear where it will inevitably fall from again.

“If your dad needs a mechanic I know someone downtown.” Dennis offers. “Oh- he’s not my dad.” Casey quickly states, frowning softly. “That’s my uncle, my dad died when I was a kid.” Casey elaborates for him as brief and to the point as she can. She’s never indulged in sharing her tragic backstory with others. Dennis’ eyes subtly widen and he feels waves of embarrassment wash across him. “Christ- I’m sorry.” He stammers and looks away, shoulders rigid.

“It’s all good, everyone thinks he’s my dad to be honest.” Casey shifts with a reassuring laugh, sensing his unease. Quietly, Dennis nods and rubs the back of his neck, eyes fixated on the line where the concrete turns into grass. “My father died when I was young too.” Dennis says after a moment, hand sliding down the side of his neck before falling back down to rest on his knee. 

Casey listens as he speaks and she feels a strong pang of empathy. The loss of her father had permanently damaged her, a burden she’d carried since childhood. She’s relieved not to find any pity from him, pity being a sour taste in the back of her throat for her entire life. Casey didn’t need pity. For a second, she wonders if anyone else knows this about him, or if anyone else has either talked with him like this. She’s sure the rumors are just rumors and that this is nothing special.

It was easy to make something out of nothing when it came to connecting with other people but at this point there was a genuine desire to know more about him. She pauses as a realization settles over her, the realization that she wants to get closer to him. “I’m sorry...” She pauses, tongue pressing against the inside of her bottom lip as she chooses her words. “That… really sucks.” Casey says and he only nods silently. 

“It’s good though, that your uncle was there to take you in.” He finally speaks and Casey tries not to visibly frown. “Yeah.” Is all she can manage to say as she leans back to support her weight on her hands, giving her back a break from having to slouch. “I mean... He’s okay, I guess.” She glances down. That was all John had ever done for her, simply taken her in. The rest had canceled it all out.

When Casey reached a certain age, uncle John had stopped the onslaught of most of his abuse but verbal abuse had been even more rampant since then. She can recall nights full of shouting and broken furniture, holes put into the drywall. He was especially awful when he drank, constantly promising Casey he was going to stop for good just to come home late that night from hanging out with his friends, reeking of whiskey. 

 

She closes her eyes for a brief moment and Dennis cant help but stare at her being as the breeze catches her hair and stirs it gently against the pale skin of her face. He won’t pry into what she say but he wonders what kind of man her uncle is. Curiosity pricks at him but he knows better than to press her about home, that would be rude to do to anyone and Dennis has always valued his manners. It falls quiet between them again and once more he listens to the distant noises of the field crickets far away in the grass. It’s calm and Casey finds that despite the fact she’s with another person, she feels the same calmness she feels when she’s by herself.

There’s not an urgent sense of anxiety that she’d normally feel with someone else, in fact it’s the opposite. Casey feels relaxed around him, and if she dared to use the word- _safe_. Normally, she would know better than to think like that but this situation is the opposite of anything normal, especially for Casey.

 

She suddenly feels uncomfortable, fueled by anxiety and rises to her feet. It’s exclusively towards herself and has nothing to do with Dennis in specific, but it’s heavy on her and she feels the need to leave. 

She won’t speak to him again except for an occasional hello and that’ll be the end of things- just like that. Casey feels like an idiot to put this much thought into someone who she just met. “I should head back.” She says, Dennis looking up at her. “Thanks for letting me sit with you though.” Casey adds quickly as she picks up her bag and smiles, thin and forceful. 

Dennis nods, understanding. “See you around.” He says and Casey turns to walk away. She hopes that she _doesn’t _see him around, for her own sake. She hopes it’s not until he’s long forgotten all about her existence and she’s forgotten about his and she can look back and laugh at how badly she embarrassed herself that one time by becoming sort-of-kind-of-not-really friends with the maintenance man.__

__She doesn’t understand what she’s feeling and desperately tries to push it from her mind as she walks back across the field to go back into class. Casey decides that going and flooding her mind with economics or some other dull shit will put her back in a better mindset._ _

__Dennis remains seated for what feels like several decades after she leaves and it’s not the just sun that’s making him sweat now. Was it something he had said? Or was she just trying to make an escape after trying to be nice and sitting with him? A million questions run through his mind like a pack of dogs and Dennis feels guilty. Rising slowly, he collects his tools and starts making his way back into the building._ _

__The whole situation was definitely his own fault and if anyone else had known about it there probably would have been some major trouble that would have come from it. It’s in his own best interest to just leave things alone and forget about it all, despite his concern. He can’t even really place why he’s concerned in the first place._ _

__Dennis tries to blame it on the fact that he has a natural care for the well-being of students but another part of him knows that that’s definitely not true. The majority of the school is a bunch of horrible little shits and he asks himself if he would care if it were someone else. Reluctantly, he can’t help but notice a reflection of himself in Casey- a twin flame flickering in the dark._ _

__He sucks in a heavy sigh as he closes the office door behind him, heading for the stack of work orders waiting on the desk in hopes to wipe his mind clean._ _

__Hours pass and when Casey’s final class lets out at last, the sky has turned into a thick sea of heavy grey. Dark spots begin to appear on the sidewalk as fat droplets of rain fall from the sky to make contact with it. Casey feels at ease now more so than earlier in the day thanks to the mind-numbing hours of information being thrown at her that she’d just sat through._ _

__She pulls out her phone to call her uncle, leaning against the window by the glass double-doors as she listens to the drone of the dial tone. He doesn’t pick up the phone until after the second attempt and she can hear that he’s pissed off. “Hey, Casey. I can’t get the goddamn truck to start.” His voice is a little difficult to hear in the commotion of the hallway but the words make sense enough._ _

__“Can you get one of your friends to give you a ride home?” John asks her and Casey feels dread wash over her like a tidal wave. “Um- yeah. I can do that.” She finally manages to say before ending the call without a goodbye. Who the hell was she supposed to ask? She’d hung out with Claire and her friend Marcia before but they hadn’t spoken since early summer and it’d be weird to suddenly go begging her for a ride._ _

__Sighing with frustration, Casey leans against the wall and momentarily pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to think of anyone she could ask. There were only so many options she had and internally she was regretting not at least trying to make better friends with people, even if it were for her own gain at this split second. A thought crosses her mind and she peers out through the glass to see just exactly how hard the rain is coming down. Guess she was walking home today. It wasn’t too close but it also wasn’t exactly on the other side of town either._ _

__She decides to wait until the monsoon outside has slowed down before going out and trudging through it._ _

__Casey takes a seat right where she had been standing so she can keep an eye on the downpour, putting in her earbuds and pulling up spotify on her phone._ _

__She hadn’t seen Dennis hesitantly peering at her from the doorway of the supply closet. He couldn’t hear her conversation on the phone but having seen her expression and watched her sit down on the floor he figures something’s happened. Dennis can recall an earlier conversation about the stability of her uncle’s car and for a second an idea stirs in him._ _

__He’s not sure if he should approach her or not after she had left abruptly earlier that afternoon but there’s a tug of concern that wants to pull him forward to speak to her. Something tells him to stay put and leave her alone. Even if there was a problem, she’d definitely have one of her friends take her home, right?_ _

__Dennis decides to wait. He had things he had to do before he left anyways and if she were still there when he got done he would approach her. He clicked the light switch off in the closet and headed down the hallway, palms slightly clammy from anxiety. Why did he even feel like it was his responsibility in the first place? He’s asked kids to leave when it was time to lock up countless of times before without a care in the world if they had some way or another to get home, so why all of a sudden was he this concerned over someone he’d just met?_ _

__Dennis goes about his duties, taking a quick inventory on supplies and making sure the doors were locked. The rain still is pouring down in sheets and for just a second he stops and takes a moment to admire the gentle features of her profile as she gazes out the window. He takes in all her features - The straight slope of her nose, dark eyelashes that flit occasionally when she blinks her half-lidded eyes which are fixed on the rain._ _

__There’s a tightening in his chest and all at once he finds himself stepping forward hesitantly. Casey looks up when she notices someone in her peripheral vision, standing close. She her gaze travels up the long legs of Dennis before meeting his eyes. “Car troubles?” Dennis asks, trying not to sound as nervous as he actually was. Casey sighs and nods, pulling an earbud out._ _

__“Yeah. I’m just waiting for the rain to stop so I can walk home.” Casey says casually and Dennis’ breath hitches in his chest without a sound. “No way.” He says curtly and without really much thought. She’s staring up at him with a single brow arched and he knows now he’s too deep into it to go back. “I’ll... Give you a ride home, if you’ll let me.” Dennis says in his usual quiet, unwavering tone._ _

__Casey considers for a half-second before standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “Yeah? I’d actually really appreciate that.” She answers, a small smile settling across her soft features. Dennis hopes he hasn’t turned red but his face does feel hot. “If you’ll wait here I’ll pull the car around.” He says. She nods briskly and leans up against the wall. “Trust me, I won’t go anywhere.” Casey jokes. “Good.” Dennis retorts before turning to walk out of the double doors. He delves straight into the rain, being pelted by sheets of it as he dashes to his car. He hates getting his clothes wet- but it’s worth it for Casey._ _

__Casey watches him dart across the parking lot and disappear from her sight behind the other staff member’s vehicles. There’s some sort of giddy excitement mixed with anxiety that stirs in her stomach and she tries to swallow it. So much for trying to avoid him. Anyone would have agreed to it, she’s sure- it’s better than walking back in the rain, which still shows no sign of letting up. She wonders if he usually helps everyone out like this or if she’s one of the select few to ever interact this much with Dennis._ _

__She briefly entertains the thought but is soon cut off when the light of a grey sedan’s headlights beam across the sidewalk it’s pulled up next to. Casey doesn’t want to keep him waiting and quickly steps outside, briefly drenched by the rain before she’s safe inside the car. She wasn’t sure what she expected but isn’t surprised by the lack of trash in Dennis’ car. Glancing over at him, Casey pulls her seatbelt across her chest and locks it in place._ _

__“Thanks... You know you didn’t have to do that for me.” She says. His shirt is soaked and so are the tops of his thighs, rain beaded on his face where it drips off of his nose and glasses. “I wanted to.” He says in his matter of fact way, his cold expression is more soft than usual and he really seems like he genuinely hasn’t minded any of it._ _

__Casey’s a wild mixture of confusion, excitement and anxiety all wrapped into one and she’s not exactly sure what to do. She watches the windshield wipers work at full speed to clear the constant barrage of rain from the pane of glass as they pull off onto the main road._ _

__“You’re gonna have to tell me where to go.” Dennis says, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Just keep going straight for now, I’ll tell you what intersection to turn at.” She assures him and brushes away a wet strand of hair that was stuck to her forehead. His quiet concentration is focused on the road, driving carefully through the rain. Dennis briefly glances over at her and notices that though she isn’t drenched, she’s still a little bit wet. “Are you cold? I can turn on the heat for you.” He asks but turns it on regardless before she can even answer. “Yeah, thanks.” Casey says, welcoming the gentle heat on her face._ _

__The majority of the ride is spent in silence, save for Casey’s few instructions on which streets to take and the soft murmur of the radio. It’s not a long drive from the school and eventually Casey tells him to slow down once they’ve pulled down a slightly wooded street. It’s small, two bedrooms settled at the top of a gravel driveway where her uncle’s deceased truck sits, asleep._ _

__There’s an empty flowerbed filled with not much more than mulch and weeds and it looks sort of drowned under the puddles accumulated from the rain. Dennis puts the car in park and pulls up the emergency break before unlocking the door for her, expecting her to bolt now that they’d arrived. Anything to get away from him._ _

__But she doesn’t._ _

__Instead, she pauses before she unbuckles her seat belt and turns to face him. There’s a little ghost of a smile that’s washed across her features, visible in the dim late-afternoon light muted by the storm. “Thanks Dennis. I would have been walking through this mess if it weren’t for you.” Casey’s nervous but she wants to express her gratitude. Dennis shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I wasn’t about to let you do that.” His accent is thick. He pauses for a moment before his brows knit together in thought._ _

__“Your uncle isn’t going to be upset about me giving you a ride, is he?” Dennis asks, realization that her uncle might be pissed about her accepting rides from a 36 year old man who’d she just met two days prior. Casey exhales a huff of laughter through her nose and she looks out the window at the house._ _

__“No. He told me to try and see if a friend would give me a ride home, so I guess that’s what I did.” Casey immediately regrets what she says and decides she’ll drown herself in the nearest puddle as soon as Dennis drives away. Dennis stiffens a little at what she says and looks confused but far away from displeased._ _

__He looks like he wants to say something, but either chooses not to or can’t find the words to say it. She can’t tell. “I have to go inside, but really Dennis. Thanks.” She decides to cut it short and thanks him again before pulling the handle to the door and opening it, bidding him goodnight before quickly dashing up the sidewalk to her front door._ _

__Dennis pauses, listens as his engine idles, eyes locked onto Casey as she made her way through the rain and up the two steps to her porch. He doesn’t move again until he watches her disappear into the dark of the house and he realizes just how tense he’s been. What just happened? The faint smell of whatever soap or laundry detergent she uses is still fresh in the car and he savors the clean smell of her, listening to the rain drum on the roof of the car._ _

__He didn’t know if she was really calling them friends or just trying to be polite but the playback of her words through his head made his heart pound in his chest like it was trying to escape him. His face feels hot and his palms are damp, from rain or whatever this feeling was - he couldn’t tell. Dennis sucks in a deep breath through his nose and casts a single glance back towards her house before steadying himself and pulling onto the road._ _

__He switches off the radio in favor of the gentle hiss of the rain on his windshield and the hum of the tires over the asphalt, all being drowned out by the thrumming in his chest and the heat in his face._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys ! sorry for not updating. ive been moving again and switching jobs so life's been crazy. thanks for your patience <3


	4. 04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dennis has feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @ bornslippey.tumblr.com (feel free to send me requests.)

The rain has slowed down to a drizzle by the time Dennis makes it home and the sound it makes is no more than a gentle hiss over the roof of his apartment. The faucet is running steadily while he waits for the water to heat up to begin scrubbing dishes from earlier in the evening. 

Thoughts of Casey are bombarding him and he lets his mind drift back to the memory of her sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He sees her image so pristine in his mind, the wet strands of hair plastered to her forehead, the sharp almost mischievous glint in her eye when she had implied their friendship. 

Dennis suddenly feels hot again and forces his attention back on the plate, sponging a more than generous amount of dish soap onto it. 

He starts to wonder what she did after she went inside, what she was doing right now, what she was thinking about. It plays through his mind like a sequence from a film and he can see her clearly stepping into the house, saying hello to her uncle and heading into her room to undress from her wet clothes- 

He stops there, derailing his train of thought as he leans against he counter momentarily. 

Shame fills him as he switches the faucet off with trembling hands. He knows better, knows better than to think about someone like her the way he has and the guilt threatens to strangle him over the pile of glistening dishes.

Once everything is dry and put away, Dennis makes his way into the bedroom and sits at the edge of the bed. It’s not even that late but he still feels the overwhelming need to lay down and he rubs the bridge of his nose with a tired hand. 

He feels stretched, like he was being pulled in two different directions by opposing, powerful forces. Dennis has always considered himself practical and down to earth, more focused on his work and keeping to himself than he was anything else.

In the past, there had been a time or two when someone had been interested in him. He’d been approached before with offers of dinner, drinks, a night spent somewhere other than his own apartment but it always ended declined politely or with a good enough excuse. 

Dennis had never wanted anyone else. It’s not so much the fact that people frightened him, more of the idea of suddenly having to share his life with someone. Most people tended to avoid him once they figured out just how high his walls went. Nothing made him want to run more than people trying to pry, people trying to understand him. 

As a boy, being alone had bothered him. This changed as he grew older, circumstance leading him to close himself off to others - he preferred to be alone. It was almost like he’d been alone for such a long time that he wasn’t sure how to have people in his life at this point. Dennis’ social life was non-existent but he feels like he would be more upset if he actually had one to worry about. 

Yet suddenly there’s a girl randomly and terrifyingly materializing in his complex world of solitude. Dennis wants her to stay, he wants her to leave, everything all at once and it terrifies him. It was entirely a foreign concept to him and he’s not even sure if what he feels really even has a name to it. 

He sucks in a slow, steady breath and attempts to calm his mind. It was inappropriate to think about a student like this. He rubs the palms of his calloused hands together before standing and making his way into the bathroom where he turns the handle of the shower to the hottest setting.

The water is scalding against his bare skin when he steps in and pulls the curtain shut behind him. He relishes the feeling of it, resting his forehead against the spotless tile of the shower wall. Dennis stares and watches the water fall in rivulets down his neck and shoulders, down his abdomen to splatter on the floor. 

Steam billows around him as the water heats the cold ceramic of the shower floor beneath his feet and he closes his eyes, trying to think of anything that’s not Casey. 

“Who dropped you off?” Her uncle’s voice comes as a disembodied echo from the den as she steps into the dim entryway of the house, shutting the door behind her. The room is almost pitch black save for the glow of the TV flickering off the walls.

“Someone from school.” Casey calls back after she drops her bag with a thud on the old hardwood floor before starting to head towards her room. “I just didn’t recognize that car out there.” John’s voice is calm for now but holds an accusatory tone that comes before a fight and Casey is instantly annoyed. She doesn’t answer him, just closes the door to her room behind her quietly. 

She sits down at her desk chair to wrestle her shoes off and there’s footsteps that creak heavily on the floorboards before her door opens. “Did you hear me?” John is standing in the doorway, tall and threatening and Casey looks up at him. “Sure did.” She says flatly and her uncle rests a forearm on the trim of the doorway, agitation mounting. 

“Drop the attitude Casey, I’m serious. I want you to answer me when I’m talking to you, do you understand?” His voice has always been threatening but more so now that he’s mad and Casey turns her attention back down to loosening her shoelaces. She lets the sneaker fall to the floor with a clatter before sitting back and nods. “Why? I don’t understand why you would care so much about who’s car that was.” She huffs angrily and John shifts his weight impatiently. 

“Seriously Casey it’s just a matter of respect. I do a lot of shit for you.” He folds His arms and pushes the door further open. “So you’re gonna answer me when I talk to you or ask you something, got it?” He’s a little louder now and Casey fights the urge to shrink back into the chair. “Okay.” She spits the word out like it was rotted. “ _Yes sir._ Seriously Casey… Respect.” He shakes his head angrily and turns, closing her door with force as he walks away. 

She waits to hear his footsteps fade back down the hallway before finally undressing and slipping into some shorts and an old T-shirt. The encounter with uncle John has left her angered and she lays down on her back, gazing up at the dusty vent in her ceiling.

This was only a tiny spat but it happens enough to wear anyone down. All it took was saying one wrong thing and John would immediately get pissed and fly off the handle, his temper on a delicate hair-trigger. 

Holes in the drywall, broken furniture, objects thrown. Casey could even recall a time where he bent the hinges on her door when she’d locked him out once. It hadn’t always been like this - She closes her eyes and thinks about the days when it was just her and her father. The memories are here, but distant and foggy like sea glass.

She can still remember certain specific details about her dad, how he always smelled like strong cedar and the big brown boots he would wear. His face is an ever shifting memory that she struggles to recall without a photograph present, but she knows better than to look through albums. Casey knows looking back on the past will make the present even more bitter. Recognizing what you’ve lost is more painful than letting yourself forget about it. 

Casey pushes the fight as far away from her thoughts as she can manage and sighs as she rolls over onto her belly, checking her phone to look at the time. Instead, she tries to recall her trip home. The sound of the rain dripping outside of her window catches her attention and she wonders how long she would have been stuck at the school if Dennis hadn’t given her a ride. 

Judging by how pristine his car was there was no way the guy had kids, or if he did they were definitely older. He was only like 30-something, right? Casey furrows her brow at how much thought she’s put into wondering about him. Simple curiosity and no more than that she decides, running a hand through her still faintly damp hair. 

He definitely has to be married though and she tries to recall if he had a ring or not. She wonders about what kind of person manages to mesh well enough with Dennis to be that close to him and the thought inspires a tiny spark of envy in her chest. 

If he wasn’t married or didn’t have any kids, she was curious about what he did in his spare time. She thinks about the sloping muscles of his shoulders and back that his button up strained to contain and it’s clear that he devotes a lot of time to physical training. 

She quickly sits upright and swings her legs over the side of her bed before grabbing her laptop from off of the desk. Casey takes a second to adjust a few pillows before flopping back. It’s the perfect weather to turn off all of the lights and watch something mind-numbing on Netflix for a few hours until she passes out and forgets all about mysterious Dennis and his secret life. 

Morning comes early and Casey gets herself ready to go through the day. The weather’s cleared up a little bit overnight and even though it’s still overcast the rain seems to have stopped for the meantime. 

The truck struggles to start with a pitiful whirring noise followed by the absence of the roar from the engine. Her uncle swears profoundly before storming back inside and Casey decides it’s a good day to walk to school. 

School is only about a ten minute drive from her house but it obviously takes her a little longer to get there on foot, having to traverse a maze of sidewalks and traffic crossings. It’s not being late that she’s concerned in the least bit about, but the looming threat of continued rain overhead.

She could recall being in the 4th grade and being chewed out by teachers constantly for being late, like it was somehow in her control that her uncle was hungover and spent the whole night drinking. She’s gotten in trouble for it plenty of times in high school too but she knows better than to press John into getting her anywhere on time- especially when he was in this kind of mood. Some consequences are easier to deal with than others. 

Puddles reflect the cloudy sky before shattering into a display of ripples as Casey steps through them, enjoying the satisfying feeling of splashing through the water but taking care not to splatter it up her legs. Casey loves walking and has spent plenty of free time just exploring her neighborhood sidewalks. 

It was nice to be alone and not have to think about much except the sprawling concrete and its weed-filled cracks. There’s a distant peal of thunder that rolls quietly, a warning that another downpour was to soon be unleashed and Casey silently thanks whatever powers that may be that she’s getting close to school. 

The rain starts yet again an hour into her first class and continues for the majority of the day. 

Casey’s attention is locked onto one of the tall windows in her classroom where the shades had been hiked up, watching the rain spill itself on the ground outside. Her attention floats slowly back to Dennis and she decides that as soon as she can she’ll try to find him today. 

She tells herself that she just wants to thank him properly for the ride - it’s not just because she wants to see him again. There’s not many people that Casey lends her trust to, especially with men. She knew better than anyone the lengths men would go through to take advantage of her. The natural caution she has feels different somehow in Dennis’ case. The feelings of mistrust and anxiety are there, but there are other more complex feelings that speak over them. 

He’s quiet and well-mannered. Most other people would be bothered by his coldness and his almost aloof demeanor but Casey understands that it’s just how he is, it’s his own person.

Casey doesn’t trust anyone but she especially doesn’t trust men, let alone someone she’s just met a few days before. Yet, there’s something so different about him though and she can’t quite place why.

Maybe it’s because he isn’t pushy like the boys in her class, pretending to genuinely be interested in you and then pressuring you into something entirely different. 

He isn’t forceful or hot-tempered like uncle John who uses physical advantages to get whatever he wants. 

No, Dennis is different and she likes it.

Besides, if he was like the others than he had many opportunities to show his true colors already. It’s not like he was going to kidnap her and lock her in his basement or something. She smirks a little and huffs quietly through her nose at the idea of it, bringing herself back to reality. 

She’s glad her uncle was late, she’s happy the truck is a piece of shit. Casey’s glad that she’s met Dennis. 

Class lets out and she takes to the hallway. It’s not long before she catches a glimpse of Dennis’ shoulder peeking out of the dimly lit supply closet and she quickly approaches him. 

He turns to exit the closet just as she reaches him and she catches him off guard. “Hey.” She speaks as she leans against the side of the doorway. Dennis nods, his expression softening a little. “Oh- Hi.” Is his simple reply as he clicks the light off, closing the door behind him. 

Casey’s doesn’t mind his awkwardness, his quietness. She doesn’t expect him to be talkative but that doesn’t mean she can’t talk with him. “I wanted to thank you for the ride again.” Casey says and she swears she sees a ghost of a smile twitch at his lips. “You did. Twice in fact, I think.” Dennis replies with a little bit of humor and Casey nods, compressing her lips. “Yeah well, I guess a third time. I’m just really thankful I didn’t have to walk home in all this.” She says. 

Casey looks down and notices the air filter in his hand, bag of tools in the other. “Am I keeping you from your work? I can beat it if you want.” Casey asks, furrowing her brow. He shakes his head before motioning to her with one of his occupied hands. “No. Walk with me.” He says and Casey does. 

“How’s the truck?” Dennis asks, casting a glance to her as she walks beside him, consciously shortening his stride to match her own. “Still dead, I had to walk to school this morning.” Casey rolls her eyes as she speaks. “My uncle doesn’t like to spend a lot of money and doesn’t want to let it go even though it’s like a million years old.” She continues, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“That’s a shame.” Dennis says and they round a corner down one of the quieter halls in the school building. There’s a wide air conditioner vent set in the wall and he sets everything in his hands down to begin maintenance. “If you need… I could drive you home again today.” He pauses, looking over at her as he crouches down to begin his work. 

Casey cocks her head slightly and arches a brow. “You sure? You don’t have to uber me around everywhere.” She’s a little surprised that he even offered. Dennis nods and takes a moment to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and rolls them up to his elbows before he begins to unscrew the panel that covers the vent. 

“It’s not that big of a deal. My apartment is on the same side of town.” Dennis places the screws on the ground where he can easily find them again, lowering the panel off of the wall. Casey finds herself wondering once again if he lives alone or not, her gaze lingering on his muscular forearms for a split second before snapping back onto the wall in front of them. 

“That’s convenient.” She says, nodding and taking a knee next to him while he works. Dennis removes the old air filter from the unit and Casey watches him suppress a cringe as the grime from it touches his bare skin before he delicately places it where it leans against the wall. 

“I didn’t want to keep you from getting to spend time with your family.” She says, drumming her fingers silently on her knee. 

Dennis huffs quietly and it takes her a moment to register that he’s laughed, a smile spreading across his features. “No. No one to go home to.” He says curtly as he begins to install the new, clean filter. “Really? That’s kind of a surprise.” She regrets it as soon as it leaves her mouth but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. 

“I prefer it, keeps things simple.” Dennis elaborates before he begins to re-attach the panel that was covering the unit back onto the wall.

Casey walks with him to dispose of the old air filter. “You good?” She asks after he gingerly tosses it into a trash bin in the same supply closet they were at earlier. It’s raining, so he’ll have to wait before he can take it all out to the dumpster. 

Dennis nods, collecting himself a little before grabbing a bottle of hand sanitizer from off one of the shelves and pumping a liberal amount into his palms before rubbing them together. “I’m fine, I just… Really don’t like filth.” He answers, turning his gaze back to Casey who once more leans against the frame of the door. 

“I noticed.” She speaks, nodding her head briefly and she wonders if he struggles with some form of OCD. Dennis rolls the sleeves of his uniform shirt back down before buttoning the cuffs now that he’s done with the dusty filter and moves to face Casey once again. “You don’t have another class to get to?” The question would sound accusing coming from anyone else but from Dennis it only sounds curious. 

Casey shakes her head hesitantly before shrugging. “Yeah... Well, it’s gym. Me and gym don’t really mix.” She admits, fidgeting with the hem of her flannel shirt as she speaks. She hated gym, and putting on gym shorts meant exposing her legs which meant everyone was free to look at her and her scars. 

“I don’t blame you, I was horrible at gym when I was in school.” Dennis steps out of the closet and closes it behind him before leaning against the door. 

“What? No way! You’re like, ripped as hell.” Casey laughs at the thought. “I was kind of puny back then.” Dennis looks slightly amused as he reflects. “Didn’t eat enough as a kid, to be honest.” He shrugs slightly and she’s relieved to see he’s more relaxed around her today.

“I feel you. My uncle can’t really cook so I was raised off of whatever he pulled from the bottom of the freezer.” She pulls a subtle face at the memory. “I tried learning how to cook but I’m really awful at it.” Casey watches him shift his weight and fold his arms against his chest. 

“I learned how to cook when I was out of high school. Became a valuable skill.” Dennis says, his gaze falling down to the floor at his feet. “Yeah? I’ve always thought it would be cool to know how to cook like actual food and not have to live off of instant noodles and hot pockets.” Casey feels like if she were having this conversation with anyone else she’d be bored out of her mind but it’s engaging when it’s with Dennis. 

For a second she imagines him over a stove, skillet in hand and it’s a charming image. “A package of rice goes a long way.” Dennis shifts again. He can recall when his mother would cook and he would do the dishes for her as a boy. He still tries to uphold her standards to this day.

He realizes his expression must have shifted into something a little more serious than usual when he catches Casey peering at him inquisitively and he presses his lips together, running a hand across the nape of his neck. “I’d probably just find some way to burn it.” She jokes, eliciting one of his rare half-smiles. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you a few tricks.” Dennis retorts and Casey feels her face grow hot. 

She knows she’s turned red and she hopes he doesn’t notice. There wasn’t a single innuendo that she hadn’t heard before but something as simple as this makes her flush. Casey quickly bends over and brushes some lint from her calf to hide the fact that she’s turned pink. “Yeah, uh, I guess so.” She says with a slightly forced, nervous bit of laughter. 

Casey straightens back up and quickly checks her phone for the time. She notes that time’s clicked by without her even noticing. She never thought that there would be a day where she’d rather sit and talk with someone instead of finding a nice quiet corner to hide in and listen to her music. 

Since they’ve been standing there she’s noticed the couple of strange glances that passing students have been giving them. She can’t blame them, it’s a strange sight. Both she and Dennis had their own reputations and if you added that onto a student casually hanging out with the maintenance man it definitely was an odd thing to walk past.

He’s not as tense around her anymore. His shoulders are still straight but there’s a sense of ease in his posturing now, his usual stony features softened. She feels proud. Casey feels more relaxed too, like she’s let her restraint slip just enough so she can push forward to connect with him. Relationships are her weakest point but her bond with Dennis is special.

Dennis quickly gives a glance down at his watch and frowns before looking back to Casey. “I have a couple more jobs I need to get finished with.” He says, wrapping up their conversation. “Just when I was about to find out all your rice-cooking secrets.” Casey smirks and raises her brows. “I’ll let you get to it then.” She says, taking a few steps away. 

“We can meet up at the front, whenever you’re ready to go home.” Dennis reminds her of his offer and she nods before starting down the hall. “Roger that.” She says casually with a brief wave over her shoulder. 

There’s definitely no going to gym unless if she just wanted to sit around and watch other people run around and get snapped at by another teacher so she opts to sit in the library again. She doesn’t notice that Dennis is watching her as she walks down the hall, gaze still remaining when she vanishes from sight around the corner down another hallway. 

His pulse is racing and he feels like he’s about to die or vaporize on the spot. Casey talked to him. She actually sat down and they had an actual conversation and she didn’t hate him, didn’t look at him with revulsion. 

Dennis rubs the top of his shaven head, trying to focus. He wanted to get closer to her, he couldn’t fight his attraction to her. Guilt washes over him and he feels sick. 

He had barred himself away to protect himself from others, locked himself away. Yet, here was Casey. Dennis longs to touch her, just to ghost his hand through her long dark hair. There’s a certain softness to all her sharpness and he feels the ice of his exterior beginning to melt. 

A shiver jumps through him and he removes his glasses to rub them clean. He begins to make his way to his next task and contemplates their similarities. They’re alike in many ways. She’s just as cautious and reserved as he is, just as avoidant. 

He knows why he is the way he is, Dennis has had to evolve over time and his traits have manifested in him to protect him from the hurt that’s awaited him. Dennis had no choice but to learn or he would have succumbed. 

It felt like the past was always one step behind him, clipping on his heels and he feels like most days he struggles to stay ahead. He hopes Casey can’t relate to him.

The thought alone makes him angry and he feels fiercely protective of Casey. He decides to focus on his work instead and continues down the corridor. There’s always something to be fixed.

Casey dodges gym and rots through a few more classes before the clock finally hits its magic number, releasing her for the day. She’s the first one out of her seat, sliding her bag off of the table and onto her shoulder as she heads out of the classroom. It’s a little bit crowded and she knows Dennis will have to finish a few things before they can leave but she knows that it’s well worth the wait. 

The main entrance is busy with everyone coming and going but Casey waits in the corner across from the door regardless, anxiety prickling at her. Outside she can see that the rain has slowed to a stop at some point in the day, the pavement outside slick and stained black and shiny by the rain. 

It’s going to be a little while but she’s patient, scrolling through her phone lazily as she waits for him. With each passing minute the school seems to get a little bit emptier, bit by bit. It’s Friday, the weekend has everybody rushing to get home or to hang out with friends. 

Casey’s never in a hurry. 

A little while passes and she looks up when she hears someone approaching, pleased to see Dennis. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” Dennis apologizes but Casey shakes her head. “You’re fine.” She assures him and shifts away from her spot against the wall. 

“Ready?” She asks and he nods, getting the door for her before following behind Casey. The clouds are already breaking up now in the late afternoon and the breeze carries a light chill with it now, autumn beginning to settle into the atmosphere. 

Casey’s shoes squeak against the wet asphalt as they make their way to Dennis’ car, his usual quick strides once again slowed enough for her to keep up with him. 

He’s quiet, focusing intently on the road as he drives her home. 

Dennis still vaguely remembers the way but still needs a few cues from Casey who sits next to him in the passenger seat- so close to him. “I’ll see you Monday.” Her voice breaks the silence once they’ve pulled up to her house. “Mhm.” He nods and watches her all the way to the front door.

He’s been home for a while now before he realizes that he’s left his work jacket out in his car and heads outside to retrieve it. Dennis finds his coat there but also spies something left on the passenger’s seat.

Curiously, he picks it up to investigate the cell phone. Immediately he realizes it’s Casey’s phone, probably slipped from her pocket or fallen out of her bag. A slight panic rises in him as he realizes that somehow, he has to get it back to her. 

Tomorrow starts the weekend and neither of them would be seeing each other again until Monday at the soonest, so bringing it back to her at school was a no-go. Dennis runs his hand across the back of his neck and quickly decides that he’d run by her house and give it to her. 

Should he leave it in the mailbox? Would she even think to look there? A quick trip back up the stairs to lock his front door and Dennis is back in his car headed back to her house. 

It’s been several hours now since he’d dropped her off and it was dark now, the clouds having spread out enough to reveal a spattering of stars and dim moonlight which is drowned out by the orange sodium lights on the roadway.

Casey’s sitting on the floor of her room, laptop in front of her as she lazily browses through Facebook. She’s not sure why she even still has an account, none of the people she’s added on there mean anything to her and she’d rather not know what they’re up to anyway. 

She hadn’t realized that she’d left her phone until about an hour after getting home and realized she had no way of getting in touch with Dennis to let him know it was in his car still. For a second, she wonders if Dennis has a profile she could message him on but the thought is interrupted by John’s figure in the doorway.

“Hey, I’m stepping out for a second.” He says, keys in hand. Casey nods, knowing that ‘stepping out’ meant yet another beer run. “Gotcha.” She doesn’t look up from the screen when she notices him disappear from her peripheral and it’s not long after that before she hears the door slam and the engine of the truck stuttering before coming to life. 

Casey listens for a moment, guessing that he had managed to get it fixed and a little bit of disappointment pricks at her at the thought of her uncle being her ride home once more. She goes back to her search and is about to just go to bed before a knock at the door startles her.

She jumps up, closing her computer and cautiously tip-toeing to the door. She peeks through the curtains in the den to see who’s dropped by and her chest lurches when she see’s that it’s Dennis. There’s a moment of confusion but she realizes he’s probably found her phone in his car and drove back to give it to her. 

Floorboards creak under her feet as she goes to get the door, pulling it open on its stiff hinges with a little bit of effort. “Oh my God, thank you. I didn’t even realize I’d lost it until you’d driven off.” Casey immediately apologizes without even greeting him and Dennis shakes his head, handing the small device back to her. 

“No worries. I figured you might need it.” He shifts his weight a little. There’s a small, awkward pause and Casey suddenly moves, pulling the door open a little wider. “Wanna come in for a second?” She asks and Dennis’ eyebrows raise by a fraction before he cautiously nods. “I- um, sure.” He stammers a little and follows Casey into the entryway.

It’s a small house and Dennis can tell it’s been well lived in. There’s a hole in the wall that’s been puttied over and sanded down, still awaiting a coat of paint to hide the evidence that the damage had ever been there in the first place. Dennis hates coming into others homes, knowing that their standards of clean deviate from his a great percentage of the time. 

But there’s something nice about Casey’s home, seeing the place that she lives and breathes in day in and day out. “Want some water? I’d give you a beer but my uncle’s out getting more.” Casey offers. Dennis nods. 

“Water is great. I don’t drink.” He says, approaching the kitchen counter. Casey’s on the opposite side of it, standing on tip-toe to grab a glass from the top shelf of the cupboard. In seconds it’s filled with ice and water and Dennis takes a small sip. 

“Thank you.” He speaks quietly, eyes still roaming curiously over the hunting themed decor of the house. “I should be thanking _you_.” Casey runs her hands through her hair as she speaks. “My uncle would have murdered me if he found out I’d lost my phone.” The thought of her uncle’s reaction fills her with dread and she’s glad Dennis stopped by when he did. 

His thoughts roam to her uncle and he feels slightly tense knowing that he’s not in the house. Dennis isn’t really sure of anyone who would like their teenage daughter to be inviting in strange men who they don’t know into their kitchen for a glass of water. He grips the glass a little tighter as he takes another draw from it. “Well, we couldn’t have that.” Dennis says as he watches Casey lean on the counter with her elbows.

He looks so different when he’s standing in her kitchen, out of uniform and relaxed instead of in a school hallway and Casey hopes that her uncle takes a little longer than he usually does. She knows there would only be trouble if he ever found out about this but for now, they have time. 

“Your uncle uh... Really likes to hunt, doesn’t he?” He says, his gaze falling back onto her. Casey nods. “Yeah, my family was big into it. I used to go hunting with him and my dad when I was little.” There’s a pang in her chest at the memories and she longs for the time when her father was still here and her uncle was still a protector in her eyes. 

“He still hunts a ton, I’m not big on it anymore.” Casey continues. Dennis nods slightly before draining the last bit of water from his glass. “You a good shot?” He asks, the thought of Casey holding a hunting rifle hiding in a deer blind is a slightly strange but befitting image. She shrugs. 

“I guess. I mostly just went along for the ride most trips. My dad taught me a few things though.” Casey had remembered her father’s voice, the deep timbre of it as he went over the fundamentals of marksmanship. _Steady breathing. Sight picture. Trigger squeeze. Posture._ She can still recall them all, a sacred mantra.

Time passes as they chat and Dennis decides it’s time to go. Casey gladly walks him back through the den to the front door. 

“Thanks again for dropping this off. I’ll try not to leave all my shit in your car next time.” She half-smiles and Dennis nods, adjusting his glasses. “Even if you do I’ll just swing by and drink all your water.” His sense of humor is dry and subtle and if it came from anyone else it wouldn’t be funny. 

“I guess I’ll stock up on ice.” She retorts. Dennis goes to leave when there’s the sound of a key sliding into the lock. The doorknob twists and the door heaves open, Casey’s heart dropping into her stomach at the sight of her Uncle’s intimidating figure coming into the entryway, six pack in hand. 

There’s a dead silence that settles on all three of them and Casey stares at John who stares at Dennis who’s staring back at him. It’s tense. The regret of invinting Dennis inside comes rushing through her all at once and she tries not to panic. 

“Oh, hey!” She tries to sound casual and happy to see him, but her throat is dry. “This is Dennis, he uh, gave me a ride home today. I left my phone in his car and he was nice enough to bring it back for me.” 

Casey feels her arms begin to shake a little bit as she watches John stare at him. “Well I’ll be.” John finally speaks. “That is mighty kind of him.” 

“It wasn’t a problem.” Dennis speaks, realizing he’s definitely overstepped some kind of boundary here and he glances at Casey. He can see how tense she is and he worries for her. “I have to go now, it was nice meeting you.” Dennis says, giving a quick nod to both Casey and her uncle before opening the door, leaving her once more alone with her uncle.


	5. 05

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> casey has a secret, dennis does too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, find me on tumblr @ bornslippey.tumblr.com 
> 
> feel free to send me requests.

The tension between Casey and John is palpable in the uncomfortably cool air around them. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, frozen in place like a trapped animal.

“Who the hell was that?” John finally breaks the silence. She works to remain calm in the face of a growing outburst.

“He works at the school.” She tells the truth, it’s all she can do at this point. Her uncle crosses his arms, shaking his head as he rubs his face with a single hand in bewilderment. “What the hell are you doing inviting some man into the house like that?” John’s voice is rising now and Casey takes a step back as he takes another step forward. “It’s not like that, he just came to give me back my ph-” Casey’s cut off by her uncle. 

“Look. I don’t even want to know what kind of shit you get up to when I’m not around but I will not have you fooling around with anyone in MY house- especially a grown ass man. You understand me Casey?” He’s firm, angrily pointing an accusatory finger at her. 

Casey’s brows knit together angrily and she clenches her jaw to keep herself from losing it. “It’s not like that.” She’s trying hard not to let her temper slip and she turns around to walk away before she does something she regrets. A large hand clasps down on her shoulder and pulls her back around to face John with force. 

She defensively wrenches her shoulder free, fear spiking through her at her uncle’s touch. “Casey, I’m trying to fucking protect you. You’ve been trusted to me you know that, right?” John growls and Casey feels a sudden rush of anger. 

“If _you_ wanted to protect me then _you_ should have protected me from _your own damn self!_ ” Casey shouts, finally letting her anger slip out from under her like a landslide. 

There’s a flash of pain and it takes her a second to register that she’s been slapped. Her cheek is stinging and her lip is already swelling as the blood rushes to it, angry tears beginning to well in her eyes. 

She refuses to cry. Not anymore.

It was only an open-handed slap and Casey feels like she should feel lucky but a welt is already starting to form where his hand had caught her lip. 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, girl.” John growls, towering over Casey as she raises a hand to gingerly touch at her face. Her brown eyes are blown wide with fear, her breath shuddering as she slowly backs away from the man in front of her. “What the _hell_ would your father think?” He shouts and she can’t take it anymore. 

Casey turns around and quickly walks- but doesn’t run away from her uncle, angrily slamming the door to her room behind her.

She waits a few seconds, facing the door with a defensive stance, ready to attack him if he dared follow her.

But it stays quiet. 

A minute turns into three more before she finally lets her guard down and sits down on the edge of her bed. Once again she raises a quivering hand to touch her lip and when she pulls it back she sees that it’s split open, a streak of red-orange blood swiped across her index and middle fingers when she retracts them away. 

Casey gets up from her spot and walks over to her desk where she digs through a drawer. There’s a small compact mirror in there that she pulls out to further inspect the damage that’s been done. 

Her lip has a welt on it that’s still slowly seeping a little bit of blood and the skin on her lower cheek is red and angry. 

It’s not as bad as she originally thought it was and her cheek won’t even bruise.

But her lip will take much longer to heal. 

The adrenaline has run its course through her body and brain and has long cycled through, leaving her feeling shaky and empty, arms quivering as the weight of the situation settles on her shoulders. 

This is not the first time that this has happened. There’s been bigger fights and Casey’s glad that she managed to walk away with only a busted lip and not something else. The thought fills her with unease and she shuts off the light to her room, pulling back her duvet and crawling into the bed. 

She’s careful not to lie on the injured side of her face. Tears well in her eyes and the dim surroundings of her room blur, a hot mix of anger and hurt but she will not let herself cry. She’s done enough crying for her lifetime. She knows that the lip will heal over the weekend and her uncle will be too hungover in the morning to care about it and with time she’ll move on. 

For now, all that she can do is wait for sleep to come and take her into another day.

Every morning Dennis wakes up at 6:00 and makes breakfast. It doesn’t matter if he has the day off and can afford to sleep in, his routine is important to him. He sits at the table and reads the news on his phone for about a half hour before he cleans up and takes a shower, one of the most important rituals of his day. 

Days off are usually not a time of relaxation for Dennis as he prefers to use his time productively whenever he has some to spare, which isn’t very often. There’s a load of laundry that he’s started in the wash and he gets to work doing his weekly deep clean of his apartment. Last night still weighs ominously over his head and he feels guilty for putting Casey in that kind of situation. He should have declined coming inside. 

The abrasive smell of cleaner hangs in the bathroom and burns his lungs as he works intently on scrubbing down the counter. There’s no way for him to know what happened, if John was angry or not. He doesn’t know what kind of man her uncle is and it picks at the back of his mind. 

He tries to assure himself that everything’s okay, he’ll go in on Monday and they’ll laugh about it. The mop slides over the tiles of the bathroom floor and they glisten. Everything is already perfect, but he persists. 

Eventually, after a couple of hours Dennis finds things satisfactory and goes to move his clothes from the washer into the dryer. The unit had come with a small washer and dryer in the closet and it had been convenient. The dryer is loud and vibrates the floor when it spins to life and he turns away, walking back into the living room to take a short break from his duties.

The healing process is ugly, Casey knows this better than anyone else as she looks at her still slightly swollen now bruised lip. Her uncle could have definitely done more damage but once more she’s thankful this was the extent of it. It was rare for John to become angry enough to strike but Casey definitely preferred getting hit over other things that had been used as punishments before. 

She lets the shower run while she inspects her face on the mirrored pane of the medicine cabinet, her fingers gently prodding the cut. It’s swollen and the surrounding area on her lip is purple and bruised but the redness on her cheek has long since faded. Casey stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, a sick feeling pooling in her stomach when she remembers that come Monday the cut will probably still be there and people will be asking her what happened. 

More importantly, Dennis will want to know and dread fills her.

Steam begins to quickly fog the mirror and Casey finally peels off her sweatpants and shirt, tossing them into the far corner of the bathroom before stumbling out of her underwear and stepping into the shower. 

It’s too hot at first but eventually she adjusts the temperature, leaning her head back into the stream and letting it wet her long dark hair. For a second, she considers what would happen if she actually did tell Dennis. Not just about the cut and bruise on her swollen bottom lip but _everything,_ everything since even before her father died.

The thought is vaguely terrifying. She’s never told anyone ever about this before out of fear of either not being taken seriously or even worse consequences. The idea of being taken away and put into a foster home terrified her when she was little, even though she’s well past that point now. Casey hates conflict.

She tilts her head forward again and blinks rapidly as water trails down her forehead and into her eyes. Part of her does regret not reaching out when she was younger, but it was all too late now. 

Even when she moves far far away, even long after uncle John dies and no matter how old Casey gets the pain will never subside.

Casey grabs her shampoo and begins to lather a small handful of it through her hair, water hissing around her and traveling down the drain. Even if she tried to piece herself back together again, the cracks would still be there.

She envied people who had gone through their lives without any sort of trauma. She’s seen movies and novels turn it into something of fancy, something romantic and dramatized. If only it was really like it was in the books and in the shows. In real life Casey’s found it to be much more different. 

_’Abuse will make you kinder._ Casey can recall reading that online once and she wishes she could be kind, wishes she can be soft.

She holds the exterior of someone cruel and rebellious, a troublemaker, up to no good, a problem child. On the inside she feels like she’s still just a scared little girl with nowhere to run, nowhere to run to. There’s a whirlwind of emotions constantly stirring inside of her and it ranges from anger to sorrow to fear and to complete numbness. 

Casey’s certainly not kind, though she wishes very badly that she could be. She’s watched all of the inspiration-porn from documentary of trauma survivors and it’s only made her angrier. 

It’s meant to encourage hope in people like Casey but she doesn’t feel any of that. Hope is worthless to her at this point. She knows no one is going to help her now and even then she feels like she’s beyond re-assembling. Like a bone that’s been broken and didn’t set right and now it’s healed the wrong way, crooked and bent. 

She lets her conditioner soak into her hair while she soaps face wash onto her skin, careful to avoid getting it anywhere near her lip. There’s been countless times she’s acted out in the past or done something stupid just to feel a rush, to feel like she’s alive or anything other than whatever it is that she feels now but it always comes back to the same dead feeling. 

Sometimes she feels that no matter what she does, this is the way things have been and the way they’ll always be. Casey doesn’t like pity and certainly doesn’t do any sort of self-pity but the sadness seeps straight through her like blood through gauze.

Her fingers trace the raised edges of her scars as she lathers soap across her torso and down her thighs and calves, her lip throbbing as she bends in the shower. She lets herself try to enjoy the heat of the water for just a little more before finally turning off the shower and stepping out onto the cold tile floor. 

Water drips off of her and pools at her feet as she grabs her towel from off of the rack and rubs herself down with it, lip aching at the slightest of movements. 

Saturday and Sunday slowly drag by and when Casey wakes up on Monday morning she stares at her lip in the mirror. It’s not swollen anymore even though there’s still the faintest ghost of a bruise surrounding the injured area. The split area of her skin has shrunken a little and the scab pulls tight on her lip when she flexes it. 

For a second she considers putting concealer over it, but worries it might just make it look worse. She wants to stay home today, take a sick day and not worry about having people see her like this but she knows better. John would only let her if she was deathly ill or if she had an injury that couldn’t be explained away and she doesn’t feel like getting into another fight with him. 

It doesn’t take her very long to get ready for school and she grabs her bag from the floor of her room before walking outside to the car. John is silent for the entirety of the ride and Casey is too. They haven’t spoken since the fight and she wonders if it’s because he’s still angry or if he feels guilty. Probably both, she decides. 

Casey chooses to focus her attention on the pavement that rushes past her window instead of her uncle in the seat beside her. They come to a stop at the curb of the school’s sidewalk and he turns to her as she goes to open the door of the truck. 

“I’ll pick you up the same time as usual today.” The words are something anybody would want to hear but his cold tone speaks volumes. “Okay.” Casey’s answer is blunt and flat but he doesn’t say anything else as he unlocks the car for her. 

She knows he wont let this go for a long time and she regrets letting Dennis inside.

Casey’s thankful to be out of the truck and away from her uncle, but the school poses a whole new threat. No one’s said anything outright about her lip but she can feel the gaze of others lingering on it for longer than they should. 

They probably just think she’s been in a fight, typical Casey Cooke starting shit as per usual. She wishes it was just that simple. 

Nothing really happens and it’s business as usual as she walks into her first class of the day, sitting at the long table and slouching down in her chair. Anxiety creeps through her at the possibility of running into Dennis today. She’s good at avoiding people, but Dennis is seemingly omnipresent in the school. 

She feels like it’s a shame to have her shitty life take away the only real friend she’s ever managed to make. Soon enough, she’ll graduate and never see him again and in a couple of years she’ll be lucky if she remembers what he looks like. 

Dennis is a nice distraction from her shitty life but that’s all he is - a distraction. The fun and excitement will be over soon in a few months and the thought makes her a little sad for a moment but she brushes it away. Dennis is better off without her, he has enough worries let alone Casey’s own on top of his. 

The jumble of thoughts in her head crowd around her all at once and she sweeps them all away under a mental rug, turning her attention to her surroundings instead.

She catches one of the girls in her class who she recognizes as Claire staring at her lip. They lock eyes and the other girl quickly looks away, seemingly almost embarrassed being discovered. 

The teacher drones on about the Barcid Empire and Casey craves the escape from class. However, the thought of running into Dennis with her fucked up lip deters her from leaving her seat and she stays put for now. Facts about Hellenistic diplomatic customs swim into her head and gather in a thick, gelatinous puddle at the bottom of her skull and she fights the urge to close her eyes. 

Today was going to be a lot longer than usual.

On Mondays, there’s a short block of about an hour and a half where Casey has free time and she realizes this with dread when she checks the time on her phone. 

Reluctantly, she leaves the classroom once it’s cleared out a little more and decides to find a place to bunker down and hide in. She decides to head to the library and quickly sets off down the hall, scanning her surroundings for a familiar shaved head. The halls are busy and crowded and she feels like she might just be able to pull it off if she moves quickly enough.

She rounds the corner, head down and immediately crashes into someone, jerking to a halt as she feels a pair of strong hands grip her upper arms gently to steady her. Casey looks up, ready to start yelling and swearing when she locks eyes with Dennis, her mouth hanging open silently instead. 

She stares at him like a deer in the headlights, a hint of fear in her eyes as they remain unmoving. Dennis looks startled and he releases his soft grip on her. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry Dennis, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Casey greets him, searching his face. His expression is soft, unmoving as he glances down at the obvious mark on her face. 

Casey watches him as he places an index finger and thumb at the tip of his chin, investigating her briefly. “Your... Lip.” He finally speaks, ignoring anything she’d previously said and looks back to her eyes and Casey nods briefly. 

“Mmhm, yeah. Slipped and busted it.” Casey brushes him off with a light hearted, forced laugh. “I mean, as I just clearly demonstrated, poise and grace are not my strongest qualities.” She jokes. But Dennis doesn’t say anything, simply continues to stare at her. 

Casey’s good at lying and Dennis nods slowly but still looks extremely unconvinced. He’s hurt himself on accident before, but he knows better than this. She could be telling the truth and he might have believed her if it weren’t for the situation he’d left Friday night.

For a second, he feels an echo of pain in his own lip and his light blue gaze snaps to the tile as the memories rush back to him.

He hopes he’s just being paranoid, overprotective as usual. “Mm.” Dennis responds and Casey offers him a thin smile, desperately trying to convince him. “Yep, sucks to suck. Thankfully the swelling went down pretty fast.” Fake it till you make it. His gaze stays on the floor and he barely nods. “Mmhm. That’s- That’s good.” He mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I hope... Your uncle didn’t think I was rude for leaving so quickly.” Dennis steers the conversation to her uncle, pressing delicately for answers, an explanation. He notices her visibly stiffen at the suggestion of her uncle and unease spikes in him yet again. 

“Nah.” Casey tries to choose her words carefully and the memory of Friday evening comes as a dull throb on the side of her face. “He didn’t care.” Casey is tense and Dennis can hear it in the coldness of her tone as she speaks. She wants to turn and walk off, make some sort of half-assed excuse and hide herself away. 

There’s a silence that grows slowly between them and Casey feels a spike of irritation at his persistent disbelief. Part of her knows that she too would have the same kind of suspicions if she was the one looking at herself. Casey knows the signs, knows the signals after years of constant abuse. It’s like a language that she and a few others speak, something sacred shared among them. 

For a second, she wonders if Dennis speaks this language too.

“Oh.” Dennis answers, short and blunt and the sound falls flat underneath the sound of the hallway. Casey shrugs a little. “You’ll want to keep that clean, you don’t want it to get infected.” Dennis refers back to her lip and she nods. 

“I meant to put some stuff on it but it was a Friday night and I didn’t feel like fighting traffic walking down to the pharmacy.” She doesn’t realize what she’s said until she sees Dennis’ brow furrow slightly. “I-I went out to get something from the truck before I went to bed. That’s when I slipped and busted my face open.” Casey feels herself going into damage control mode and tries to remain confident in her story, her intricate lie.

Friday night was when she’d hurt her lip, apparently. Dennis is still frowning, arms crossed now as he stares holes into her skull. “You must fell pretty hard if it’s only just now starting to heal up.” Dennis points out and he realizes he sounds accusing, disbelieving but he can’t help responding to the red flags. 

Friday night, drunk uncle. He begins to suspect that something happened once he’d left the house and he hopes to God that it wasn’t because of him. Casey is frozen and doesn’t realize her mouth is slightly open until she feels herself shutting it, jaw clenching tight. She remains quiet and doesn’t know if she should dig herself deeper into her grave or to come clean. 

“...Casey.” Dennis’ voice is quiet now and firmer than before. He takes a step closer to her and her breath hitches in her chest when he gets so close that she can smell the smoky amber scent of his cologne.

“Are you in trouble?” 

The question elicits a sharp spike of panic in her. He knows. He’s breaking through her exterior, her carefully crafted walls of secrecy that had managed to keep others out for all these many years- until now. 

She’s kept quiet about this her entire life and part of her almost wants to grab him and spill everything that’s ever happened to her at the hand of John. She’s silent and opens her mouth to say something but can’t find her words and knows that she’s too deep in it now to go back, her hesitance answering the question for him. 

“Not... Really.” She finally says and despite it’s vagueness, she knows that Dennis already knows the truth.. He frowns and Casey sighs. “It was just more of a misunderstanding.” She admits and Dennis looks more concerned than unimpressed now. 

“What do you mean?” He asks and Casey looks over her shoulder as a few students walk by them. “Can we step outside?” She asks. Even if Dennis knows now, that doesn’t mean the entirety of Philly had to hear.

Dennis nods and the two of them turn back down the hall Casey came from to head towards one of the side exits of the school building where it’s reserved and quiet.

It’s nice outside and they don’t need to go very far for their purposes, the two standing just a few feet away from the door of the side entrance. Dennis turns to face her, crossing his arms but refraining from leaning against the brick wall. 

“What’s this about?” His voice is firm but he’s careful to not sound demanding or harsh. He doesn’t want to intimidate her if she’s opening up to him to tell him there’s something wrong. “There... Christ.” Casey starts talking and then stops, running a hand through her hair in an agitated manner before sighing heavily. “There was a fight, Friday after you left.” Casey continues and Dennis remains silent, heart pounding in his head. 

“In fact, literally right after.” She adds. “He thought… That I was like, up to something. He said some shit that made me mad, so I yelled at him.” Casey falls silent for a second, eyes gazing out over the empty grassy spot that lies on the other side of the school’s parking lot. “He has a bad temper and it sort of doubles when he’s drunk. He was pissed that I yelled at him so he slapped me.” Casey’s cup brims and finally spills with the confession she’d been holding back. 

Dennis feels a wave of anger roll over him like the wall of clouds that comes before a thunderstorm and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Casey..” He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to panic, wants to beat the shit out of John, wants to drag Casey away to somewhere safe all at once but tries to remain calm. “Did you call someone?” He asks her but he already knows the answer. 

She shakes her head and fidgets with the strap of her watch. “No. Don’t. It’ll just make things worse.” She huffs and digs her heels against the concrete as she leans against the wall. 

Dennis goes quiet. He wants to help her but he knows how she feels as well, it seems like not long ago he was in this position himself. Dennis looks over at her and remains silent. 

“This wasn’t the first time something like this happened, was it?” He finally breaks their silence and Casey glances up at him from her peripheral, her teeth setting on edge. “No. It wasn’t.” She answers, short and cold. She doesn’t want to get into the rest of it.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Dennis asks and Casey carefully tries to word her answer. “I don’t know. I was scared, I think. I still am.” The rubber sole of her shoe scrapes against the concrete as she shifts her weight. 

“There’s nowhere for me to go if he gets arrested.” She admits, tone lowering to avoid the shake in her voice. Both of her grandparents had died long before she was born and with no mother or any siblings or other family members, John was the last of her blood relatives. It was why she was with him in the first place. “And what if they didn’t have any proof to arrest him on? He would have flipped the fuck out.” She had thought about every course of action that she could take, any path that would get her away from John. 

It’s just not that simple, especially now that she’s older. If something happened and John did get arrested, where would she go? She’s not a little girl anymore and there wouldn’t be a foster family to take her under their wing. It would just be Casey, all alone and trying to find her way through the world that had already been so cruel to her. “We’re going to tell someone.” Dennis tells her and Casey shakes her head. 

“No. We’re not going to.” She’s solid on that and Dennis looks back at her with a firm gaze. “Casey, I can’t just not tell anyone now that you’ve come to me with this.” Dennis is fearful and doesn’t want this to carry on any longer. He knows what happens when you’re ignored, when nobody takes action. 

Casey doesn’t deserve that. Not if he has any say in it. 

“Okay, so you tell someone. Then what? They come by and arrest John?” Casey sounds frustrated now, angry almost. “Then it’s up to me to somehow find a job and a place to live and somehow manage to afford rent. Forget ever going to college. My future would just be living paycheck to paycheck waiting tables at Dennys for the next 20 years of my life.” She continues.

“Or, I go to a women’s shelter, because that’s a really great place to be, right?” Her tone is abrasive and Dennis glances down at the pavement. Dennis understands where she comes from and he can sympathize a hundred percent.

“And then what? That doesn’t reverse any of the damage he’s done. He’s just living in a cell. That’s the only difference… Where am I supposed to go from there?” Casey knows nothing will ever be the same for her ever again. 

“I’m sorry.” She sighs, her tone softening as she tries to settle down. 

Dennis remains silent, watching her intently before he finally speaks. “You still have a chance though.” He’s not confident in what to say, comforting people is not his area of expertise but even now he doesn’t try to comfort her. He’s only speaking the truth. 

“Staying will only make it worse.” Dennis says softly. Casey turns to look at him and she looks irritated. “Yeah? You really sound like you’re sure about that.” She hates talking about this and she wants to end the conversation now.

Dennis wrings his hands together, anxious. “I..” He pauses to collect himself. “I am.” He says and takes a step towards Casey. 

“When... I was growing up, someone hurt me too.” 

He feels desperate. He doesn’t want her to spend her life suffering like he has. It doesn’t have to be this way for her, not when she still has a chance. 

“I never did anything about it. I just let it go on until..” He confesses. Dennis slowly begins to realize that this is the first time he’s ever said it out loud, this is the first person he’s ever told even though it’s been years since his mother died. 

Casey is staring back at him now, her eyes a little softer now that he’s spoken and she begins to understand just how much she really has in common with Dennis. “Now that I look back, sometimes I wish I did.” He speaks carefully. “I don’t want you thinking that there isn’t a way out of it.” Dennis is concerned and it shows across his usually expressionless features. 

It’s strange getting to see past his stern facade, if only just a little bit and once again Casey finds herself unknowing of what to say. 

“Please don’t tell anyone.” She’s trying not to plead with him but she will if she has to. She doesn’t know what would happen if the police were to get involved. “If the cops couldn’t find anything to arrest him on then I’m so fucked..” She continues, gesturing to her lip. 

“A busted lip on a problem kid who already starts a lot of trouble isn’t grounds to arrest someone on.” She sounds hopeless but Dennis is unconvinced.

However, he knows it isn’t as black and white as it seems and it is something that he should handle delicately. He sighs and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms. “I won’t tell anyone. Not until we’ve approached it more carefully.” He says. 

Casey looks confused now and doesn’t say anything but Dennis doesn’t pressure her to. Sometimes people don’t realize how difficult a situation like this is, how dangerous it can really be. She wants to tell, she’s wanted to scream it in people’s faces sometimes or proclaim it in the street but there’s a deep fear inside of her at what will happen if she does. 

She knows that Dennis is right and that eventually she will have to tell someone, even if it means that nothing will ever be the same. 

The thought petrifies her but stirs a sense of hope somewhere deep inside her, once long forgotten. 

Dennis’ sense of responsibility is screaming at him to drag her to help immediately, but his own personal experience tells him otherwise. Either way he’s putting Casey in danger and it’s a cold, sick feeling. He feels like either way he has no control over the situation and it terrifies him, makes him panic.

For the first time in a long time, Dennis feels helpless.

Casey checks the time and she presses her lips together as she realizes that she has to leave soon. She wouldn’t normally care, but if the school were to call John about another one of her absences, she would be done for. After everything that’s happened, she’s running out of luck to push. 

There’s too much on her mind and she shoves her hands into the pocket of her hoodie before turning back to face Dennis. 

“I have to go, I don’t know if I’ll see you again until tomorrow but...” She pauses and inhales slowly, tucking a piece of hair back behind her ear. “I’ve never told anyone any of this before.” She admits. “Thank you for just.. listening.” 

Her entire life has been lived in silence and fear and she clings to the feeling of having not only someone who listens but can understand her as well. 

Dennis nods but remains silent in his usual fashion. He suddenly moves to dig into the pocket of his work pants and pulls out a neatly folded receipt before tugging a pen from his shirt. 

Quickly, he begins to scrawl down something, carefully using his hand to stabilize the paper. He finishes writing and holds out the piece of paper towards her “Um… Here.” He states as Casey reaches forward accepts it, glancing down to see his phone number written in squared, delicate handwriting. 

“It... Doesn’t sit well with me.” Dennis confesses and his unease is apparent through his expression alone. “If something bad happens, or if you feel like something bad is going to happen, please call me before it does.” He feels better knowing that she has him as a point of contact. 

She looks down at the paper one more time before finally slipping it in her pocket.

“…Thanks...” She’s shocked by his openness and turns away, pulling the door to the school open and stepping inside of the building. She listens as the door swings shut behind her and tries to calm down.

A feeling of safety, the feeling that someone actually cares is alien and surreal and she tries not to become overwhelmed as she makes her way to her next class, her head a hornets nest of thoughts and emotions. Something warm and unfamiliar swells in her chest at the thought of Dennis and she closes her eyes, inhaling shakily.

The neatly folded piece of receipt paper burns like a hot coal in her pocket.


	6. 06

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey sneaks out.

The next few days go by fast and quiet. 

The split on Casey’s lip knits itself back together for the most part, the only evidence of its existence being a small discolored spot where it used to be. Things go back to normal, or as normal as they can possibly get for Casey.

Each day, Casey tries to talk to Dennis. Sometimes it’s just a nod and a quick hello, other times when Dennis is free they’ll have more of an actual conversation. 

Their friendship hadn’t gone completely unnoticed, however. Once, while Casey was hiding out in a bathroom stall she’d overheard two girls talking about them. “Are those two a thing or something?” One of them had asked over the sound of running water. “Who? That girl who yelled at Mr. Orwell last year in history and the custodian or whatever?” Another had answered. “I don’t know. It’s fucking weird.” The sound of a paper towel being torn and discarded, the door swinging shut as they exited.

It had taken all of her resolve not to burst out of the stall and start an all out brawl. The worst part is that she wasn’t sure if she would be upset if they were a thing. She bites her lip in quiet shame and runs her fingers through her hair, trying not to think about it.

There are some days where Dennis will wait with her on her uncle. These are Casey’s favorite days, when she can wait by the door with him until she sees the truck lurch into view.   
Today is one of those days, and after a quick goodbye she makes her way out to meet her uncle. 

Surprisingly, her uncle is on time today. 

“Hey Casey.” He says. His tone is warm and sweet and if she were anyone else she would be fooled.

She doesn’t return the greeting but it’s not unusual behavior for her and John doesn’t say anything, just simply puts the truck in gear and rolls out. The car ride is silent save for the muffled weather forecast over the speakers. 

John reaches up and turns the volume to the radio down by a few notches before briefly glancing at Casey and back to the road. “Some of the boys from work are coming over tonight.” He tells her. It’s more of a warning than anything else, John subtly advising her to be on better behavior tonight.

“Neat.” Is all Casey answers with, her eyes never leave her phone screen. His friends aren’t all that bad, she doesn’t know enough about them to make any sort of judgement. However, the idea of being around in the house during the game tonight and having to listen to them holler about it is unappealing. 

Casey draws in a slow breath and releases it in a quiet sigh, dreading the evening ahead of her. 

They reach the house soon enough and she doesn’t waste any time in getting to her room to shed her jacket and shoes carelessly on the floor. The afternoon sunlight shines down through her window shade in golden beams and Casey collapses on the mattress so that she can be in the sun too. 

It’s been a week now, and though she’s already entered Dennis’ number into her contacts long ago she still feels the piece of paper he’d given her in her pocket.

She reaches in and pulls it out, looking at it in the afternoon glow of her room. The paper is worn soft and slightly wrinkled from sitting in her pocket and she studies the neatly written sequence of numbers. 

His handwriting is straight and blocky, just as fastidious as the rest of him and she admires the orderliness. Sometimes, she’s tempted to call him, text him, just see how he’s doing or what he’s up to but she reminds herself what this number’s for. 

He’s her friend of course, but he’s first and foremost her first line if something like the incident the previous week were to happen again. She frowns and the piece of paper slips from her fingertips, fluttering down to her rug in a lazy zigzag. 

The air conditioning cuts on, humming to life and easing the threatening silence in her room. Casey sits upright, rolling over on her knees to face her window. 

Forget staying here and listening to John and his friends. Casey has a much better idea. 

Casey draws the blinds up, illuminating the room in sunlight. She releases the latches that keep the window locked and slides the pane of glass upwards. The screen had already been popped out from previous escape plans forever ago and it now lays discarded in the weedy flowerbed underneath her window. 

It’s easy enough to simply throw her legs through the window and slip right out, careful to close the window behind her. Dead leaves crunch noisily underneath her sneakers as she treads out of the flowerbed and across the tiny yard. 

There’s a little gate that leads into a small pathway between the neighbors house and theirs and it swings shut behind her with a muffled clang. John won’t be thinking about what she’s doing, especially once his friends show up and Casey feels a spark of excitement at her newfound freedom.

It’s a perfect day to sit in the park and enjoy the last warmth early autumn has to offer. She decides it’s best to stop by the small grocery store that’s a block over to grab a drink first.

The trees are beginning to shift into a brilliant display of golden orange and soon the neighborhoods will be bursting with warm reds and yellows. She loves the fall, despite the bittersweet memories it brings back with its chill. 

She takes her time strolling down the sidewalk, the weather is favorable and the evening is hers after all. It’s not long before she reaches the store and it welcomes her with an electronic chime as its automatic doors slide open.

A few employees look up but say nothing as they bag groceries. It’s been a while since Casey’s been in here and she looks around to orient herself. 

It’s not a large store, sort of a family-owned whole foods rip-off and she scans her surroundings as she makes her way down an aisle. There’s a wide array of imported products, herbs and powders for cooking, etc. She rounds the corner of an aisle and finds herself looking at a vast array of different produce. 

She lazily ambles along the refrigerated shelves, gazing at the leafy green blades of bok choy and the various kinds of pre-packaged salad mix they had to offer. 

She turns her gaze upwards and immediately spies someone across the store who she recognizes. Dennis is out of uniform but still smoothed down, grey tartan shirt tucked into his jeans, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. 

Casey watches him inspect a head of cabbage, scrutinizing its impurities before putting it back and choosing a different one instead. For a second, she wonders if she should just leave him alone or if she should go and say hi. 

She’s never actually seen him outside of school, save for the time he’d dropped by her house and the sight is alien. There’s a second of hesitation before she summons a little bit of courage.

“Hey.” Casey says as she approaches him. He glances over the rim of his glasses and it takes him a second or two to realize who he’s looking at and his eyebrows raise. “Casey?” He seems taken aback at first.

“Weird place to run into you.” She smiles crookedly and Dennis sets the bag down in the cart. “I eat sometimes.” He retorts and she rolls her eyes. “Getting some cabbage, huh?” Casey says, chiding herself for the awkwardness of her statement. 

“It’s good in stir fry.” He notes. “That’s true. It’s pretty shitty when you boil it.” She says and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve never boiled it before.” Dennis says and she shakes her head. “You’re really not missing anything, I promise.”

He looks down at her, a thoughtful expression momentarily seizing his features. “Are you busy?” He suddenly asks. 

Casey shakes her head. “Nope. I’m actually trying to kill time right now.” She says. “Why?”

“Well… I’m about to head home and uh- make dinner.” He pauses, looks away. “If you’d like, you can come over.” His voice lowers like he’s just proposed a drug deal, some kind of dark and sinister pact between the two of them and Casey finds it amusing. “I mean, you _did_ promise to show me your cooking skills.” She quips. 

Dennis looks pleased. “You’re sure its fine?” He asks. “Honestly? Yeah. My uncle doesn’t even realize I’m gone.” Casey does her best to assure him yet he still looks anxious despite her attempts. “Alright.” He finally says, a little calmer now. 

“Well… This should be everything we need so we can get going.” He nods towards the cart and Casey follows at his side when he starts off towards the registers. 

The cashier is a tall, gangly teenaged boy who offers a forced smile to Dennis. He doesn’t return it, simply hands him his bank card silently. 

Dennis opens the trunk of his car and she’s once again not surprised when all she finds in the trunk is just a pair of neatly folded jumper cables which he moves to make room for the few bags they have. 

Casey helps him even though there’s not very much to load in there in the first place and even if there was he’s more than capable of doing it himself.

The car rolls out of the parking lot and down the busy street that runs outside of it and Casey finds herself excited to see how Dennis lives. He’s had a peek into her world of taxidermy deer heads and bathroom wallpapers patterned with boats and fishing lures and she wonders just how different his own world is. 

They drive for a bit and pass a few familiar streets before pulling into an apartment complex. It’s nothing fancy but it’s quiet and well-kept, just like Dennis himself. 

Once the engine’s been cut they tag-team the few bags that are in the trunk and make their way up a single floor before entering a long hallway.

Dennis is quiet as they walk but it’s not unusual and it’s not uncomfortable. They stop at a grey door with the number ‘107’ painted onto it in faded white and Dennis fumbles for his keys. 

He’s a little nervous as he lets her inside ahead of him. He tries to remember the last time he’s had someone over and fails. Inviting someone over already felt weird, especially a girl who’s snuck out underneath her uncle’s nose. But it’s not like that, he tells himself.

Dennis shuts the door behind him, habitually locking the deadbolt behind him before flipping on the light.

The smell of pine-scented cleaning product is heavy in the air, borderline oppressive as it takes over Casey’s senses. However, she adjusts to it, glancing around at her new surroundings. 

Everything is just as clean, if not more clean than she had expected it to be, like it was some sort of contemporary art exhibit and not like someone actually lived here. The living area is divided by small counter space, a small kitchen on the other side where the carpet stops and neatly polished tile is introduced instead. 

The walls are white and the furniture is black, monochromatic and boring save for the bright green plants that sit near the glass door where they greedily absorb the sunlight. Dennis sets the groceries down on the counter and gets to work as Casey looks around. 

There’s a coffee table with nothing on it in front of the sofa and a few bookshelves on the opposite wall. There’s vary topics, but it’s mostly about mechanics and welding and a few about philosophy, some on psychology. 

At the end of the shelf there’s a silver frame with a picture in it. There’s a woman in it, blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun as she stands on a beach, beaming. It’s then that she notices the label at the edge of the picture that reads ‘Frame: 7.5 x 7.5 cm’ and she realizes it’s just the placeholder. 

She gives a quiet huff of laughter. “Your ex wife?” She jokes, looking over at Dennis who’s crouched down, opening a cabinet. “Mm.” He doesn’t look up, pulls out a skillet and a cutting board.

It’s surreal, observing him in his natural habitat. She watches take his watch off and switch the tap on, soaping his hands up as he waits for the water to heat. It’s soothing.

Where the tile ends there’s a small dining area with a small table and two chairs set up at that she passes by to lean on the counter. “Did you want any help with that?” She offers. 

“No, I’ve got it.” He says plainly, flicking the excess water off of his hands before drying them on a fluffy white dish towel. “Besides, you told me you can’t cook, remember?” Dennis peers at her from over the rim of his glasses and she feels herself turn pink. 

“Whoops, forgot about that.” She says and idly runs a few fingers through her hair. “Well, I guess I’ll just watch this time and try to absorb your knowledge for next time.” Casey jokes and she notices a faint smile on Dennis’ face as he turns his attention back to the cutting board. 

It’s almost hypnotizing watching him as he slices pork into thin pieces artfully, preparing everything for its baptism by fire and oil. She envies how naturally his fastidiousness comes to him. He throws the meat into the skillet with a little bit of oil and onion, letting it cook a little before adding the rest of the vegetables. 

Casey wonders where he’s learned this kind of skill. She realizes that this is something rare, a sight no one else has been witness to before.

It doesn’t take long for the food to finish and soon Dennis nods in the direction of the table. “Sit, I’ll bring you a plate.” He says. “At least let me help you set the table.” Casey says stubbornly and he gestures with his head towards a cabinet above the sink. “Up there.” 

The two of them make quick work of setting the table and Dennis looks embarrassed as he sits down. “I forgot to buy rice.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck. Casey shrugs and flashes a wry smile. “You’ll just have to show me your tricks next time then.” She says. 

It smells good and she’s a little surprised that someone as left-brained as Dennis could have such a knack for this. At first meeting, she’d expect him to live off of stale bread and ramen. “You like it?” He asks, trying not to stare at her while she takes a bite. 

“Oh, shit.” Casey says, her mouth still full. Taking a moment to swallow, she looks up at Dennis. “Sorry, this is just really good.” She says and Dennis feels heavy accomplishment wash over him. There’s a faint tightness in his chest as he watches her excited reaction and he inhales, steadying himself. “Good.” He’s quiet. 

Dennis loves his privacy, loves his peace and quiet. But Casey sitting across from him, a gleam of excitement in her eye stirs something inside of him that he can only describe as calm. 

They finish and she brings her dishes into the kitchen behind Dennis. “I can take care of these, don’t worry about it.” He assures her and even though Casey feels like it’s the least she can do to thank him for the food he seems firm about it. “You sure?” She asks and Dennis nods, looking over at her. 

“I don’t want you to worry about it and… I kind of prefer it.” He says. It wouldn’t have been a bother to her but she doesn’t press any further. Her attention is brought back to the sliding glass door and she slowly moves towards it. She peeks through the blinds and it’s completely bare save for more plants.

Dennis, the angry, anti-social mechanic who has a passion for potted plants. It’s endearing and she can’t help but smile. Casey lifts the bar that keeps the door locked before stepping out onto the small balcony, the cool autumn air immediately pricking at her cheeks. 

Time has passed and the sky has turned charcoal blue, tiny stars beginning to peak out and the sun low on the horizon. Casey closes her eyes and breathes in slowly, letting the sounds of the city sweep her away. The nagging paranoia of her uncle is gone and replaced with a warm feeling in her chest.

Calm moments like these are rare for Dennis. He hates spontaneity and he never partakes in it. His life is kept reigned in tight and he doesn’t let anything in - except for this. For some reason, he can’t help but let her in.

Maybe it’s because she’s quiet and calm, not overbearing. Maybe it’s because they’re one in the same yet different in every way possible. This sudden intrusion, this seemingly random connection is the most freeing thing he’s ever felt in his life before. 

He savors the feeling and doesn’t want to let go of it despite what the future imminently holds. For a second, he lets his gaze drift up from the dishwater in front of him.

Dennis watches Casey through the pane of glass that separates them. She’s leaning casually against the railing, an elbow propping her chin up on her hand. Her hair blows gently in the breeze and he can tell she’s gazing up at the twilight sky. 

It only lasts for a second, but he can’t bear the overwhelming ache that washes over him in a tidal wave of emotion.

Dennis finishes the dishes in just a few minutes, drying them carefully before putting them away. Would he do the same for anyone else? Part of him wants to believe he would but he knows that it’s not true. Casey and her situation is personal to him, something sacred that lies between the two of him. 

He can’t explain it, but it’s still so much deeper than that. Dennis wants to protect her more than anything he’s ever wanted to protect in his entire life.

 

Dennis makes his way to join her outside, opening the door and quietly drifting behind her like some sort of tactless phantom. She turns her head, looking at Dennis before turning the rest of her body.

“I know I say this a bunch and it’s probably annoying, but thanks, Dennis.” Casey’s voice is soft and quiet and he slowly averts his gaze from her. 

“It’s nothing.” He finally says, adjusting his glasses. She shakes her head and takes a single step closer to him. “It’s not though..” Casey trails off a little as she tries to find her words. “You really put yourself out there for me.” She continues and Dennis feels hot and like he’s about to die all at once. 

“No one’s ever really stuck around for me.” Her words seep into him. He brings himself to look at her and shakes his head. “I-It’s really nothing.” Dennis catches himself stammering and Casey shakes her head. “But it is something, seriously. You’re a good person Dennis.” She says it directly to him but he can’t believe it, not when he feels the way he does about Casey. 

It’s wrong, he knows it and feels like he’s just making things worse. They’re friends and nothing more, never will be and he wants to protect her before anything else despite how he feels. He promised her.

“I’m not.” Dennis states, not firmly but cold enough and she frowns, brown eyes peering at him like a hawk. 

“You can think that.” She says, matter-of-fact, not turning from him. “I’ve heard how people talk about you… I’ve heard the gossip and all the rumors.” Her thoughts reflect back to overheard conversations, eavesdroppings. 

Dennis feels himself grow even more tense, looking away from her when she steps closer to him once again. He wasn’t sure what exactly she _had_ heard but he didn’t have to use his imagination when it came to guessing what people had to say about him. 

It’s a hot mix of shame and anger at the idea of her hearing those things about him. “I don’t care how others see you. Because I see you for who you really are.” She says carefully. Casey doesn’t believe in pep-talks, but she wants to tell him the truth.

This is the truth, pure to its core and back. She doesn’t care if Dennis doesn’t feel the same way that she feels about him. She doesn’t care that maybe one day her feelings will go away. Casey only cares about right now this second, half-leaned against the balcony railing with Dennis before her. 

Feeling brave, she takes a step forward.

Casey is closer to him than she’s ever been before, even if it’s only a few inches away. Her face feels hot and the rest of her feels stupid for everything she’s saying. 

“You’ve done a lot for me. If I hadn’t run into you tonight I would have just eventually gone back to my uncle and his shitty friends.” She says. Dennis fights the urge to disappear.

If she really knew, she would hate him. 

He wants to push her away, spare her from his own feelings but he knows that he wouldn’t be able to even if he tried. Dennis is in too deep. His affectioned coupled with his promise to protect her seals their connection to one another. 

He would never subject her to abandonment. 

“I want you to be safe.” Dennis says quietly. “You’re...” The words want to come out but he filters them. “You’re important to me.” Dennis is full of regret. She’s beyond important to him. Casey hasn’t turned away from him and his coldness, his harsh attitude and less than sociable personality. 

Casey is still here, with him, despite everything and he’s torn. “You’re important to me too.” She says, voice barely rising above a murmur. 

It’s quiet, and the tension between them is unbearable. Casey’s face still feels like she’s been maced and her emotions swell and rise like waves far from shore. She wants to tell him everything but doesn’t want to lose the most important connection she’s had in what she thinks is her entire life.

The one person that hasn’t used her or manipulated her to get something that they wanted, who hasn’t taken anything from her. Casey’s heart is greedy but common sense reigns supreme and she knows better. She wonder’s if she’s just imagining it, the connection between the two of them. 

The pause between them breaks and Casey doesn’t really know what she’s doing until she’s already in motion, pressing her hand to his forearm in a slow, gentle motion. 

She can feel the texture of his shirt against her fingertips where it’s rolled to his elbow, the firmness of his body underneath the weight of his arms and how tense he is; how tense he’s been this whole conversation. 

Dennis is overwhelmed as he feels her touch against him and he tries desperately to keep from trembling when he feels her grip squeeze gently. He’s too scared to move, as if everything will vanish like a dream if he does. 

If he felt like he was about to die before, he was definitely dead now and this was some sort of strange vision he was having in the thralls of passing away. 

It’s even slower than the initial contact between them, but he pushes forward and moves, pulling her against him in a hesitant embrace. To his surprise, she doesn’t pull away, she doesn’t reel backwards. Instead, Casey slides her arms around his sides and returns the gesture. 

He can feel the soft slopes of her shoulder blades underneath his palms and he can feel her face pressed against his upper chest, right beneath his chin. The smell of her hair, the feeling of her warm body against his is overwhelming and he’s sure he can hear how hard his heart is beating out of his chest. 

It feels like it lasts forever, but their embrace is brief and is over before either of them really registers what has happened. Chaste, momentary.

She takes a step back and looks up at him, his rich, woodsy scent caught in her nose. Dennis looks equal parts surprised and confused, his face red as he stares back at her silently, unmoving. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do, mouth slightly ajar like he wants to speak but doesn’t know how. 

“I really mean it.” Casey assures him and affection and worry grapple one another inside her stomach. Did he pity her? Is that why he did that?

“D-do you?” Dennis stammers, breathless. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know why he just did that. 

“Just trust me on it, okay?” Casey says, stepping back a little further. “You’re like, one of the only people I really even care about.” She adds. “Sorry, I know that sounds stupid but it’s true.” Casey waves a hand, trying to play down the atmosphere. 

His breathing is a little slower now and Dennis feels himself beginning to stabilize, adjusting his glasses with a deceptively steady hand. 

“It’s not stupid.” He says, glancing away from her. “I’m.. Glad.” Dennis adds and he knows he doesn’t sound convincing despite how hard he’s trying to. “I’m glad I’m one of those people.”

Casey worries she’s made him uncomfortable but as he speaks his honesty becomes more and more apparent. 

A smile can’t help but twitch across her lips and Dennis definitely feels like he’s either going to have a heart attack or burst into flames at any second, maybe both if he’s extra lucky. 

It’s dark now, twilight having given way to night and Casey suddenly becomes aware of the real world. 

Her uncle’s friends are probably still over but she knows that eventually they’ll leave and she’ll need to be home before then. “Wow, it’s already 8?” She says when she checks the time on her phone. As much as she doesn’t want to change the subject, it seems welcomed with Dennis. 

“I gotta get home, I’m sorry.” Casey sighs and tucks her phone away, looking back to Dennis. He’s still silent and has to pull himself out of his thoughts. “Hm? Yeah, yeah. It’s no problem.” He quickly agrees, nodding. “I’ll take you home then.” He clears his throat and watches as she steps back inside of his apartment, following right behind her. 

The ride home borders the fine line of awkward and casually quiet. Casey isn’t a clairvoyant much to her dismay and she wishes she could tell what was going on inside Dennis’ head. 

People have to take each others words and learn to trust each other, something Casey’s been struggling with all her life. Is he put off by her now? He was the one who’d wrapped his arms around her, but she’d initiated the first touch. It’s quiet in the car, Dennis now knows by heart which streets to take and which intersections to turn at. 

The longer the silence stays, the more anxious Dennis starts to feel. He’s a burning ball of emotions right now and for a man who hasn’t felt this way before, it’s jarring. You don’t have problems like this when you build your walls high enough no one can ever get in. 

“Stop here.” Casey says, even though they’re two houses down from her actual house and the car lurches to an abrupt halt. “I don’t want him to see your car out here.” She explains, her voice tight in her throat. He puts the car in park and turns to look at her, expecting to watch her sprint off into the dark now that she’s away from him. 

But Casey remains seated, chewing on her inner lip like there’s something that she wants to say but can’t figure out how to say it. 

She turns to look at him and he can make out the planes and slopes of her face, a lesson in geometric perfection illuminated by the dingy glow of the orange sodium light that emanates from the street lamp across the road.

“Thanks again, Dennis.” She smiles softly and Dennis feels like he’s about to die yet again. He stays silent. She turns to open the car door when she feels a hand on her forearm. “Wait-” Dennis lets his touch linger on her forearm and she turns back to face him.

Why did he stop her? What could he even say to her? He blinks, mouth slightly open as if surprised by his own actions. “Um.. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He asks. 

Casey lets her arm slide from his touch and he feels the familiar crushing sensation of shame. It’s soon replaced by shock when her hand slips into the shape of his own. He’s bewildered by how delicate and soft it is compared to his own.

“Duh.” Her response is casual in her usual roughness, a rich contrast to the gentle touch of her hand. “Right.” Dennis murmurs after a long pause. Her hand slips away from his and she opens the door, climbing out. 

Before closing it, she bends over and peeks back in at Dennis. “G’night.” She says, letting the door shut before starting off for her backyard. 

Dennis watches her disregard the sidewalk and cut across the fresh-clipped lawns of her neighbors before disappearing between the two houses. It’s dark and he watches her turn into a pale, half-visible shape in the night like a spectre. 

Her window is waiting for her and she vaults through the open pane, bumping her knee clumsily against the side of the house as she struggles back into her room. Window shut and now locked, she lowers the blinds again and sits quietly in the darkness of her room. 

It was like she hadn’t even left, door still closed and desk lamp still on. She takes a moment to listen and she can hear the muffled sound of a commercial on the TV, the booming laughter of one of John’s friends. 

Her thoughts snap to the car, just a few minutes behind her. What if he felt the same way? What if it wasn’t one-sided? Casey flops down onto her mattress and rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling. It’s impossible, but she entertains the thought until her eyes become too heavy to keep open anymore.

It’s late by the time Dennis finally shuts his book and turns the lamp off. The pillowcase beneath his face is crisp and clean and he savors the sensation of it as his thoughts tick away one by one.

He’d wanted to kiss her, right there in his car in the dim street light. 

He’d wanted to drive away with her, away from her uncle. It’s a stupid fantasy, something he’s not usually prone to. Deep inside, he knows that whatever she feels, she’ll move on from eventually. 

They’re friends, and he’s agreed to help her- but that doesn’t make him a savior or some kind of brilliant knight. He’s here to break her out of a bad situation and help her get somewhere better, somewhere safer. 

Dennis lays on his back, an arm behind his head and his hand on his chest. He pulls his glasses from off of his face and leans over to set them down on the night stand, the clock reading ‘2:24’ in blurred red numbers. 

A sigh escapes him, long and quiet in the dark. Despite how tired he is, his mind keeps snowballing. If Casey wants him to love her, he’ll do it. If she wants him to protect her, he’ll do it. There’s nothing that he wouldn’t do for her as long as she asked it of him and he feels like a fool for it. 

If only she knew. Deep inside, he knows that she’d only push him away if she did.

But he’ll do anything for Casey, even if that means to feel for her quietly and secretly. He’s her protector, and he’ll do anything to maintain that status and fulfill his purpose of getting her out of this shit. 

Dennis rolls over to his side once again and squeezes his eyes shut, realizing that this is what love, terrible and encompassing, must really feel like.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw for abuse in this chapter. proceed with some caution <3

The next day, Dennis is nowhere to be found. 

He’s not in any of his usual spots and normally he makes some sort of attempt to find Casey and talk to her towards the end of the day but there’s nothing. 

At first, she wonders if it’s something she’s done but he’d asked if he’d see her today, hadn’t he? The memory alone eases her anxiety. 

She’s dying to know if something’s happened or not and more fear prickles in her as she recalls rumors that had been going around. Did someone try to get him in trouble? The thought leaves a sour taste in her mouth and a sick feeling in her stomach.

Soon enough, school is let out and Casey waits on her uncle once again. Dennis is still nowhere to be found. She feels stupid for being so anxious over this. Assuming Dennis was avoiding her was paranoid and self-centered and she tries to clear her mind with a deep breath, tries to remember the night before.

She can still feel Dennis’ chest against her cheek, the warmth of their brief embrace. When she closes her eyes she can still smell his warm scent. It’s a hopeless crush, Casey thinks. 

Casey wonders if she’d fall for anyone who showed her a shred of kindness and guilt washes over her in a slow wave. Her phone buzzes and she pulls it out of her pocket, glancing at the notification that pops up on her screen. It’s nothing important, and she sets to scrolling through her instagram feed. An idea stirs in her and she pulls open her contact list, hovering over Dennis’ name on the screen. She hesitates - he had given her his number for emergencies. Should she?

_”didnt see you today. you okay?”_  
Her thumbs move quicker than her brain and she sends it, quickly shoving her phone into her pocket before she can see if he’ll respond of not, as if it makes a difference.

Regret stirs in her. What if she makes him mad? Or annoys him? Casey chastises herself for being this ridiculous.

Out of everyone in her school, in the entire nation, the entire world, why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t she just find someone in her class to have some kind of stupid high school fling with? She just _had_ to have it out for the middle aged, anti-social maintenance man who people are kind of terrified of. 

She tilts her head back, letting it rest against the rough brick of the school’s wall before giving a quiet huff of irritation. This is why she avoids connecting with others. It’s too complex, too emotionally taxing.

_”didnt see you today. you okay?”_

The notification pops up on Dennis’ phone, blocking the wall of text from some sort of article he’s trying to read. 

Dennis doesn’t text, unless it’s work-related and even then that’s once in a blue moon. The number isn’t one he recognizes but as he reads the message he realizes that it’s probably Casey, or at least he’s pretty sure that it is. 

He stares at the screen until it automatically goes dark, unable to come up with any sort of response. He barely slept last night. After dropping her off he’d laid in bed for hours, tossing and turning. When he did manage to finally go to sleep, he’d awakened heavy-eyed and full of guilt.

Dennis had called in, lied about a stomach virus. He couldn’t recall a single time in his life that he’d missed work- let alone lied about something to get out of it. 

Desperately, he tried his best to go about his daily routine. Yet, everything still felt wrong. Touching her, hugging her, letting her hold his hand, asking if he was going to see her tomorrow. It was stupid. _He_ was stupid.

All the things she said to him last night, she was probably just trying to be nice. Dennis is thoroughly convinced that he's overbearing and she couldn’t figure out how to let him down politely. 

Does she genuinely see them as friends? Or is he just away out for her? Then again, that’s his first and foremost role, isn’t it? Dennis has to check himself- remind himself that she’s someone in need of help and he offered her that help. Nothing more - he’s not some sort of savior and he’s definitely not her boyfriend. 

The word tastes sour in his mouth and he immediately erases all thought of the idea. Instead, he chooses to turn his attention back to the text that flashes back on his screen, his phone reminding him that he has an unread message.

Hesitantly, he unlocks his phone and begins to respond.

_”I’m sorry. Came down with something.”_

Casey practically jumps when she feels her phone buzz against her thigh and she pulls her phone out to see Dennis’ name on her screen.

She carefully reads the message and feels a sense of relief wash over her as she learns that he hadn’t been avoiding her- he actually hadn’t been there at all today. 

Her anxiety is instead replaced with sympathy as she imagines a sick Dennis. Her thumb hovers over the screen and she chooses to wait before responding, not wanting to seem eager. 

Casey ponders what she should say next. Sorry you got the plague? Get well soon? Before she can start to type, her phone goes off again. It’s her uncle this time, letting her know he’s waiting outside for her in the truck. 

Casey hesitates for a minute before opening up her messages with Dennis again and beginning to type. 

_”yikes lol that sucks”_

She hits the send button and cringes when she re-reads it. Casey snatches her bag and hurries out to meet her uncle outside before he starts getting impatient.

John greets her in his usual warm fashion as she gets into the truck and Casey tries to focus on anything except Dennis right now. The two make light conversation which quickly fizzles out, her uncle turning up the volume on the radio to replace the growing silence between them. 

Dennis sees the notification pop up again as he’s reading. Is he supposed to reply to this? He decides quickly that he actually _really_ hates texting and that it’s almost as bad as talking face to face.

Deciding against it, he goes back to reading. Dennis has hobbies and it’s rare that he actually gets to enjoy them, his daily life overcome with cleaning and chores. 

He loves to read. Reading is pleasant, it gives him a break from his own head for once. Thinkpieces, articles, fiction, nonfiction. There’s nothing that he really won’t read, as long as it’s interesting and well-written.

It’s not more than a couple of minutes later before his phone gently buzzes again in his hand, another text from Casey.

_”get well soon. it was weird not seeing you today”_

He’s surprised that he was missed, taking note of the tearful emoji she’s added. Maybe she doesn’t hate him after all, if it were him, he would have pushed himself away weeks ago.

Guilt begins to press him once again and he feels bad for lying to her about being sick. He feels bad for the way he feels about her in general. Maybe he should go for a walk, something, _anything_ to just clear his head.

Dennis had avoided his daily run today, wouldn’t help for someone to see him out jogging after calling in sick. He’s already cleaned the bathroom twice today but it probably wouldn’t hurt to clean it a third time, he decides. 

Rising from his spot on the couch, he casts a glance back down to his phone, considering. He picks it up and goes to text her back. 

_”It was weird not being there.”_  
Good enough. Casual but not uncaring. Dennis sets his phone back down and decides to find something productive to do with the remainder of the evening. 

6:45. The blaring sound of the default radar alarm jolts Casey awake, just like it does every morning. She has several that blast about every ten minutes from her phone until about 7:30, when she actually has to be out of bed. 

She stirs, sleepy and irritated by the noise before struggling to press the snooze button. Casey has never been a morning person, even as far back as she can remember. A quick glance at the time tells her that it’s not quite time to get out of bed just yet and she rolls over, sheets tangling between her legs.

Desperately, she tries to fall back asleep but it’s too late now and she’s practically awake. She rolls onto her back, half-lidded eyes blinking in the darkness of her room. The thought of school fills her with dread and she wonders if Dennis is feeling better today. 

It’s weird, actually looking forward to seeing someone. It’s a nice contrast. She goes to school, talks to Dennis and is generally in a better mood for the rest of the day. Before she would keep to herself, brood in the bathroom listening to music.

A sense of uneasiness begins to creep in on her. It’s not like she depends on him- she’s capable of talking to other people. She just wants to talk to him and spend time with him in particular. 

What if she’d made him uncomfortable? Dennis was shy, uptight and avoidant. Has she violated that in any way? Did she hurt their friendship? In any relationship with another person there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed and Casey is beginning to feel like she’s tap-danced right across it. 

Ten minutes have already passed and her phone loudly rings again, the noise practically sickening to Casey. There’s no use in laying around in bed now that her mind is racing. She decides that she might as well get out of bed and get her day started. 

Her hair is still damp by the time she gets into the truck beside her uncle and anticipation and dread coagulate in her stomach to create a gross sinking feeling. 

John stuffs the keys into the ignition and cranks it, the engine giving a painful scraping sound without fully starting. John’s head falls back against the seat rest and he groans with irritation, big chest rising and falling. 

“What the _hell_ is wrong with this thing now.” He’s pissed and a massive hand claps down on the steering wheel.

Casey doesn’t know what exactly the sound that came from the engine means, but she _does_ know that she’s going to have to walk to school today, like many days. She refrains from saying anything, pursing her lips as she watches her uncle insert the key again tries again. 

The truck shudders with a dramatic, rusty noise before falling silent, a death rattle. 

“Sorry kid but you’re gonna have to walk.” John huffs and pulls the small lever that pops the hood before getting out of the truck. Casey waits a moment before grabbing her bag and exiting the vehicle, slinging it over her shoulder. “You’re also going to make sure you don’t get a ride from any weirdos. Got that?” John looks up from where he’s got the hood open, a sharp look in his eyes. 

“Okay. I’ll get Claire to drive me back or something now that she’s got her license.” Casey lies and John doesn’t look away. Casey wouldn’t even dream of catching a ride with Claire. She can see the wheels churning in his head before they come to a halt, deciding to trust her as he turns back to the viscera of the truck.

The sky is overcast today and she hopes the rain holds off for just a little bit, until she gets to school at least. Rain is nice, but Casey certainly can appreciate it from indoors where she can stay dry.

She makes it to school just before the downpour begins, a slow drizzle that increases with time. When her second class lets out, Casey feels like she can breathe again at long last. She realizes she hadn’t thought to check if Dennis is back at work today, having slipped her mind with the chaos of the morning. 

Casey debates on looking around for him but hesitates on account she doesn’t want to seem like a stalker. Eventually she realizes she’s standing in the hall looking like an idiot and decides to head to her spot in the library to escape some of the noise and kill some time between classes.

She’s halfway there when she spots Dennis coming out of one of the faculty offices. She freezes in her tracks, hesitating as she thinks about approaching him. Casey tries to sweep her anxiety under the rug, pivoting on the heel of her worn sneaker to change directions and walk towards him. 

“Feeling better?” She asks once she’s a little bit closer and Dennis quickly turns to face her, caught off guard. 

He realizes it’s just her and visibly relaxes, shoulders less stiff. “Somewhat.” He clears his throat nervously and tries his best to avoid eye contact. “That’s good, can’t have you dying or anything. The school would be in ruins.” Casey jokes. 

“I’ll try not to.” He fidgets with the cuff of his sleeve, staring down at the floor. It’s dirty. 

Something feels off and Dennis seems even more quiet than he usually is, more tense. Casey wonders if she’s interrupting his work. “Am I bothering you?” Her brow arches at his unusual behavior and he moves to adjust his glasses. “No, you’re not.” His answers are short and curt. This wasn’t really unusual, but Casey felt disappointed after having felt like she’d made so much progress with him.

Dennis had been anxious ever since he woke up that morning. Through the majority of the time he had known Casey, he thought that he could simply set aside his feelings and just ignore them. He knows that he’s not deceiving her, but he still feels some type of guilt. 

It’s not right, being friends with Casey. Despite not having ulterior motives, Dennis feels like his sole purpose should be to take care of and protect Casey if she were in trouble. He’s supposed to be helping her, not getting attached to her.

If she knew, she would hate him for the rest of her life. 

Despite all of this, he can’t bring himself to push her away. “I’m sorry. I still have a headache from yesterday.” He apologizes, and it’s the truth. His head is still killing him.

Dennis prays that she’ll find someone better to hang around soon. “You work too much. You need a break.” Casey advises, genuine concern in her voice and Dennis nods silently, too exhausted to argue.

It goes quiet between the two and he clears his throat again. “I have some work. I’ll talk to you later.” Dennis turns and starts heading for the exit at the end of the hall. Something isn’t right, Casey can feel it in her gut as she watches him walk away.

“Wait- Dennis.” Casey says, starting after him. He stops, turning to face her. There’s something in his eyes and she pauses carefully before she begins to speak. “Can... I ask you something?” She lowers her voice and Dennis stares right through her with his concrete gaze. 

“Shoot.” He sounds irritated now and Casey feels even worse. “Have I done something?” She asks and Dennis blinks, confusion replacing his stony expression. 

Her? If anyone’s done anything wrong it’s him. Regret washes over him at the idea that he’s made her feel like she’s done something. No, she could never do anything wrong, he decides and takes a step backwards. 

“You haven’t.” Dennis assures her in a brusque manner before turning away again. He needs to get away before he says something regrettable, he feels like he’s said too much already.

“Wait.” Casey is still beside him and catches his wrist with a gentle but firm grip. Dennis halts yet again, his expression clouded with unease. “What?” He snaps, Casey’s forehead creasing with confusion at his reaction. “What’s going on with you?” She asks, releasing his wrist.

Dennis doesn’t say anything, simply stares back at her. Casey inhales, gathering her wits about her as she looks for the words to say. “I really can’t shake this feeling that I… made you upset.” Casey explains. “Don’t feel like you have to spare my feelings. I just feel like I maybe crossed a line and made you uncomfortable the other night.” She continues and Dennis feels like he’s being pressed into a corner. 

“If I did, you need to tell me so that I don’t do it again.” Casey’s brow is knitted together in concern. “You didn’t.” His voice is tight with anxiety and he averts his eyes from her. “Make me upset, I mean.” He elaborates.

Her gaze softens but it’s not in relief, just gentle worry. “Then what’s the matter?” She asks. Casey believes him, but there’s still obviously something wrong between them. He’s quiet but breathing a little quicker now. Dennis feels like his work shirt is suddenly much too tight and his palms are clammy with nervous sweat. 

“Please, Casey. It’s nothing.” He says quietly, hand anxiously running across his scalp as his gaze falls to the ground. “You can always talk to me, you know that right?” Casey says. She tilts her head a little to get him to look at her, brown eyes soft with concern. 

“I’m not a good person.” It comes out sudden and he looks surprised at what he’s said. Dennis feels like the dam is breaking and he’s about to be swept away by the waves. Casey blinks, confused by what he’s said. “What do you mean?” Casey gives a wary glance over her shoulder to make sure no ones around before stepping a little closer to him. 

The halls are a little busy and Dennis subtly grasps her shoulder, leading her a little closer towards a side hall. It’s a little quieter right here, even if it’s only a few steps away from where they were previously standing. “I mean it, I’m not.” He reiterates his point and Casey narrows her eyes, suddenly irritated. 

“You really think that? I meant everything I said the other night.” She states suddenly. Dennis looks down at the tiled floor. “That’s exactly why.” He says.

She still doesn’t get it, and he can tell. “I can’t be what you need me to be.” He laments. She cocks her head, perplexed expression fixed firmly on her face as she looks back at Dennis. So she was a burden? She begins to regret saying anything in the first place.

“I...” He starts speaking and she notices the slightest tremble in his fists clenched at his sides. “I really, really like you.” His voice is a quiet murmur and she blinks, silent. “I mean… I should hope so? I like you too Dennis, but that do-” “No, you don’t understand.” Dennis cuts her off mid-sentence, shaking his head. 

His whole body burns and he feels like he’s about to drop dead at any second. “It’s more than that, Casey.” He’s really shaking now and Casey can feel herself starting to turn red. “What?” It’s like she can’t process the words. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He apologizes and Casey finds herself struggling to say something. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I have to go.” Dennis moves past her and starts walking away again. 

“No, wait.” Casey knows that it’s now or never, she needs to tell him how she really feels. His pace is brisk as he brushes past her and Casey wants to avoid a scene in the hallway so she lets him go, watching him weave between students with ease. 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _shit_.” She swears in a quiet whisper under her breath, clasping a hand to her forehead. She feels stupid for standing there like an idiot. Why didn’t she say anything? Casey feels sick. This was her chance, her golden ticket to finally tell him the truth and now it’s gone, slipped between her fingers. 

The electronic chime of the school bell draws her out of her mind and she stands there in a daze. Forget school. 

She wants to run down the hallway, grab Dennis by the shoulders and shake him while she yells about how much he really means to her. She wants to tell him how badly she’s wanted to hear him say this. 

Taking a second to reel herself under control, Casey sucks in a deep breath, steadying herself. She can’t afford getting hit with more detention and starts in the direction of her next class, head swimming like an angry sea.

The day comes to an end and there’s still no sign of Dennis anywhere. 

Casey’s been through her day in a complete haze, shockingly compliant with teachers and peers. She feels awful. 

Why can’t things just be easy?

She struggles to stay calm as she walks out of the school building, the rain having slowed to a halt for now. However, the walk back home is not short and she doesn’t linger.

The wind is cold and makes her feel empty as she starts down the city sidewalk. She should have told him earlier, all the way back when they were on the porch. Casey can’t help but feel like she should have kissed him right then and there, there wouldn’t have been anything hidden between them. No secrets, no guilt.

He feels the same. Despite what happened earlier, Casey tries to focus on this fact, a glimmer of hope. She doesn’t even realize how fast she’s been walking until she comes to a stop at the crosswalk. 

She wants to strangle him for being so _difficult_. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it? The light changes and she proceeds to cross the street. What the hell could she even do to begin fixing this? Is he going to just ignore her from now on? The thought hurts and she tries not to entertain it. 

For now, she’ll leave Dennis alone and hopefully things will calm down enough for both of them to think rationally. She feels naive, self-loathing over her child-like crush and Casey grinds her teeth slowly.

Home looms before her and she tries to wipe her mind free of all Dennis-related thoughts as she trudges up the stairs to the front door. 

The house is dark when Casey opens the door and she cautiously listens for her uncle’s usual greeting. It’s quiet in the house and she peeks into the living room, the TV off and silent. 

She makes her way through the house and into the kitchen where a piece of paper is sitting on top of today’s mail and she investigates it. _’Went to meet up with some old friends, be back tonight.’_ She sets it back down where she found it, relief washing over her. One less thing to worry about. 

Casey abandons her shoes and jacket once she reaches her room, both discarded on the floor in a pile and spies the receipt Dennis had written his number on still sitting on her floor. 

It wasn’t that long ago and here she is, already managing to fuck up the one good thing that she’s managed to find in her life.

Dennis is quickly becoming just another thing in her life she’s managed to lose. She bends over and snatches the paper off of the floor, crumpling it up angrily and tossing it into the small garbage can underneath her desk without a second thought. 

Exhausted, Casey sits at the edge of her bed and runs her hands through her dark hair. She knows she should get on with her life instead of worrying over thing she doesn’t have control of. Casey desperately wants to tell Dennis that _it’s okay._

She wants to tell them that she feels the same, that this could work. She wants to help him get past the self-loathing, despite not knowing how to handle her own. She struggles to see the wrong between them. Casey’s eighteen, nineteen in a few months. There’s no problem past Dennis being a school employee. 

Thoughts about the awful things people have said about Dennis come back to her and she wonders if it has something to do with it. Just thinking about it makes her angry and her eyes burn. Casey sits up, sliding off of the bed. For now it’s time for a bath, some dinner and anything else to distract her from her own head.

There’s a rough, raw spot on the inside of Dennis’ lip where he’s chewed on it. It tastes like copper and there’s a dull ache whenever he presses his tongue against the area. 

He shouldn’t have said it. It could have been a secret he brought with him to the grave. Yet, maybe it was for the best. There weren’t any secrets between them now and there was some freedom in that. 

Casey would have found out eventually, he tells himself. Dennis has never been a very good liar. He tosses his keys on the counter as soon as he gets in the door, making his way back into the bedroom to get out of his work uniform. 

Everything between them is ruined now, and it’s his fault.

There’s a fear that she won’t come to him if she needs help. Now that the truth is out, he fears that she’s lost any trust she had been willing to confide in him. Dennis sighs, long and heavy as he unbuttons his shirt, placing it in the laundry hamper in the closet. 

If only he had just shut up, there wouldn’t have been a problem. Despite everything, he knows one thing is clear: he still has to uphold his end of the bargain. Tomorrow morning he’ll call the authorities and let them know what’s going on. 

He’s very aware that Casey is going to hate him even more than she already does, but it’s for the best. There’s something quiet in him that tells him he probably should have done that in the first place. 

Dennis understands how she feels because long ago, that was him. He can recall struggling to make ends meet on his own, leaving home to escape his mother’s clutches straight out of high school. 

Remorse threatens to suffocate him and he sucks in a steady breath as he heads to take a shower.

Hours have passed since Casey’s gotten home and there’s still no sign of John. It’s rare when she gets the house all to herself so she savors it while she still can. 

She’s standing in the kitchen now, flipping through some kind of garbage hunting magazine that came in the mail a few days ago while she waits for her instant noodles to finish cooking. 

Night has already fallen and Casey notices that the days are starting to get shorter now as she stares out the window, only able to make out vague shapes of her neighborhood in the darkness. 

The microwave beeps noisily and Casey goes to open it up, careful not to burn her fingers on the bowl when she pulls it out. She’s struggling to open up the foil packet of seasoning when the door swings open, clattering against the wall. Dread fills her as she realizes her uncle’s come home and she tries to remain calm, tearing the packet open and giving it a shake. 

She’ll just take it back into her room, try not to make conversation. The only thing worse than a sober John is a drunken John. There’s no choice but to avoid him until he’s sober again.

“Casey? You home?” His words are a little slurred and she winces internally. No way out now. “In the kitchen.” She calls out, grabbing a fork out of the drawer in the counter. John shuffles into the dining area and Casey watches him cautiously as he approaches her. 

“Have a nice night?” She asks, testing the waters in an attempt to gauge his mood. “I wanna talk to you for a second.” John brushes off her question and she stares at him warily. There’s a silence between them and a cold, wet feeling slithers down Casey’s spine. Something inside her is telling her to run, telling her to get out of this situation while she still can-

This has happened before.

She doesn’t say anything, simply watches as he sways a little, leaning against the counter. “I’ve been thinking about the other night.” He says. “I’m really sorry about your lip, I shouldn’t have done that.” John apologizes for his actions frequently but Casey is a seasoned veteran of his behavior and knows he doesn’t mean it. 

He takes a step forward and Casey remains silent, gripping the fork in her hand until her knuckles blanch. Her skin is slippery against the metal, palms sweating. “I’m serious.” He’s a lot closer to her now and she doesn’t dare move, fear gripping her. “I know I’ve been tough on you… But that’s going to change.” John swears, another empty promise. 

“I appreciate the apology.” She says, taking a step backwards in an attempt to create distance between them. John simply moves forward to fill the space and reaches out, grabbing her by the wrist. “C’mere.” He says, pulling her into a tight embrace.

A strange scent assaults her senses, a mixture of skin, sweat and alcohol masked under a weak layer of some sort of cologne. The scent of her uncle, packaged and presented to her on his chest pressed against her cheek.

Casey pulls back a little, grip on the fork still tight. “We can talk more after I eat some dinner.” She tries to break out of the situation. It’s fruitless.

“Stop being such a jerk.” He half-jokes with her and she feels his massive hand glide down her shoulder blades and spine to settle at the small of her back before falling even lower to squeeze her. 

Revulsion twists in her stomach and her chest pounds rapidly, leg jerking instinctively. “I said stop.” Her tone is firm now as she jerks away. John is combative when he’s drunk and Casey knows this very well, taking caution. “C’mon, Casey.” John tries to coax her again and Casey attempts to move past him and get away when he grabs her firmly by the wrist. The skin turns bright white where he’s twisted it and she winces at the burn, still trying to pull away.

Casey gasps in pain when he forcefully yanks her back towards him in one swift motion, her arm pulled straight and taught when she digs her bare heels into the linoleum of the kitchen.

It happens so fast, she doesn’t register what she’s doing. It’s like she’s watching someone else control her body when she watches her arm swing forward, fork stabbing into John’s side. 

She’s not strong enough to actually embed the prongs in him, but John is still surprised by the attack and he instantly lets go, swearing in pain as he goes to clutch his side. 

“The fuck, Casey?” He shouts. She’s kicked the wasp’s nest now, John’s expression twisting in a mix of pain and pure rage. The fork clatters to the ground and before she can register anything else, she’s running.

She bursts outside, running down the stairs at full speed as she makes her escape. John’s too drunk to run after her and without his truck, she has the upper ground now. She runs, refusing to turn and look behind her. Casey doesn’t even register the discomfort of her bare feet on pavement as she runs, sprinting as fast as she can. 

Casey doesn’t even realize how far or long she’s been running for until there’s a sharp pain of exhaustion in her side and she finally has to come to a halt.

All at once, her exhaustion rushes to catch up with her and she doubles over on the sidewalk, heaving for breath. She’s a mess, sweat running down her forehead as she struggles to calm down. 

Breathing slowly begins to feel a little easier again and she straightens her back, desperately trying to assess her current situation. 

She won’t be able to go home until John’s passed out. Even then, what will she do when he wakes up? Casey weighs her options and decides it’s better to avoid home for now. But where to go? No home, no friends to turn to- especially not this late at night.

The thought of Dennis crosses her mind and tears prick in her eyes. There’s no way she could call him now. If only she hadn’t ruined everything, things would still be okay, she’d be safe with Dennis right now.

Her eyes sting and blur the streetlights into a foggy orange glow, the tears slipping freely from her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Casey blinks quickly and sucks in a shuddery breath in an attempt to calm herself down. It doesn’t work and she shivers as quiet sobs begin to escape her. 

Shakily, Casey lowers herself to the ground and sits on the curb, drawing her knees up to her chin as she cries. Sobbing soon subsides into gentle sniffles and she sits up, wiping at her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

As if on cue, something small and wet hits her face, then again a few seconds later the back of her hand. She gazes up at the heavy clouds above her, tinted an eerie deep orange from the glow of the city lights that reflect upwards into them. 

Casey squeezes her eyes shut and though she’s never been very religious, she sends a quiet prayer to hold the rain off. As if to answer her, the rain starts falling heavier and faster, fat dark spots appearing beside her on the concrete before it begins to pour in one steady sheet. 

She scrambles upright and tugs her hood up over her head in a vain attempt to stay dry. “Shit..” She whispers under her breath, looking around for anywhere she could stay dry. Casey starts walking, even though she knows it wont keep her from getting any less wet. 

An idea presents itself to her and she considers it briefly. He probably wouldn’t even answer, even if she did call him. Either way, it was worth a try.

Casey pulls her phone out of the front pocket of her pullover, the rain making it difficult to do anything on the touch screen. Eventually she manages to pull up his contact, thumb hovering over the call button. She can either stay out here and get wet, or she can reach for the possibility of a safe place to stay dry. 

The phone takes a second to process before she finally hears the dial tone. It pulses about four times. There’s no answer, and when it gets to the fifth ring the line goes silent as it cuts to voicemail. Casey ends the call before it can record anything and fights the tears once again.

One more time. She re-dials his number and presses the phone to her ear, plugging the other one with her finger so she could hear it over the sound of the rain. A deep rumble of thunder rolls in the distance and Casey begins to realize she’s going to have to go home. It continues to ring once again and her mouth feels dry at the thought of getting his voicemail once again. 

Suddenly, the ringing stops.

“Casey..?” Dennis sounds tired, voice cracking slightly. “Dennis, please. Something happened and-” She pauses. “I need you.”

“Where are you?” He asks. Casey can hear rustling on the other end as he moves. “I’m like, a block or two away from my house.” Casey explains, her voice quiet compared to the rushing sound of rain around her. “Fuck, please. Please, I’m stuck out here.” She attempts to wipe some of the rain from her face. 

“Slow down, stay where you are. I’ll be there in a second.” Dennis assures her and Casey feels a rush of relief at his words. He hangs up before she can thank him and she puts her phone back in her front pocket before it gets any more wet. 

The rain has made her cold but she doesn’t feel it from the warmth that stirs inside of her. It’s a little awkward waiting just in the middle of the sidewalk so she starts walking back to her house. She won’t go all the way back, she’ll just wait out on the sidewalk in front of her house so she’ll be easier for Dennis to find.

About twenty minutes scrape by and Casey feels anxious. She’s patient but standing in the rain sucks, even though it’s slowed to a drizzle now. A few cars have passed by but none of them are familiar. 

Eventually after another few minutes pass by, Casey can spy a pair of headlights approaching slowly, eventually stopping a few feet away. It’s him. She darts forward, not wanting to spend any more time out in the rain.

The passenger door unlocks and she climbs inside the warmth of Dennis’ car. “Here.” He says, reaching into the back seat. Of course he would have brought her a towel. She accepts it gratefully, rubbing the wetness from her face. “Thank you..” Casey finally manages to say.

She runs it over her hair to try and get some of the dripping to stop before shoving it underneath her, not wanting to get his seat any more soaked. But Dennis doesn’t seem to mind at all. 

The car is silent except for the noise of the rain on the roof and the windshield wipers gliding across the glass. “I’m sorry for making you come out here.” She apologizes, voice quiet in the confined space of the car. 

Dennis is looking at her and she can almost see him processing the words in his mind. “No.” He shakes his head. “You don’t need to be sorry.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Um, if anything.. I should be the one apologizing.” He adds as he turns to put the car in gear, water splashing underneath the tires as he pulls away from the curb. “Besides… I told you to call me if something happened.” He states quietly and Casey blinks in the darkness. 

“I feel really terrible for making you uncomfortable.” He continues to speak as he drives and she shakes her head in confusion. “What? No. I was the one who made stuff weird.” Casey says, a drop of rainwater traveling down her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. “Don’t do that.” Dennis says firmly. “You’re not responsible for this.” He explains. 

Passing streetlights temporarily bathe the car in pale orange light before fading to darkness again. Dennis doesn’t hate her. To hear him insisting she’s not to blame is a foreign and alien feeling - usually everyone is quick to blame her for anything. Casey turns her face to gaze out the window, the car returning to silence.

Eventually they pull into the familiar parking lot of the complex and Dennis cuts off the engine. He wants to find all the right words to say, all the things to fix the situation. There’s slight hesitation before he exits the car, Casey following close behind him. 

The inside of Dennis’ apartment is warm and welcoming and she’s never felt this relieved in her entire life. She’s still clutching the towel that Dennis had given her in the car, now wrapped tightly around her shoulders in an attempt to stay warm. 

Now that they’re in the light of the apartment, she can see how big of a hurry he had been in getting dressed. His shirt is unbuttoned revealing a soft ribbed undershirt that tugs upwards just above pair of grey sweatpants. She’s never seen him unpolished like this and there’s something endearing about his dishevelment. 

“The bathrooms just in there. I’ll.. Find you something dry.” He gestures towards the bedroom and Casey nods. She makes her way through the room, carpet soft under her tired feet and she turns to face him when she reaches the doorway. “Dennis?” She asks softly. 

He looks up at her, hands uncharacteristically tucked into his pockets. “..Thank you.” She says, turning to continue back into the bathroom. She hadn’t seen all of his apartment when she’d first been there and seeing Dennis’ room is strange. 

Everything is still sparsely decorated and impeccably neat except for the bed which appeared to have been hastily made, duvet wrinkled where it’s been pulled over the pillows. She wonders if he’d been asleep when she had called him. 

Where the rest of his home lacked personal touch, the bedroom made up for it in tiny details. She glances at the titles of some CDs stacked next to a row of books on the shelf. None of the names are recognizable to her - Agalloch, Burzum and another array of what appear to be industrial bands. Her lips twitch into a smile at his taste. Who would have thought.

Casey passes through a second door frame into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her before clicking on the light. 

She almost recoils at her reflection- drowned rat is an understatement. Her hair is plastered to her face, eyes still puffy from crying and she leans over to turn on the shower.

The bathroom is clean like the rest of the house and Casey suddenly feels uncomfortable in her wet clothes. Her sweatshirt comes off over her head and she hangs it over the shower curtain rod. She stumbles a bit as she peels her shorts off along with the camisole she had been wearing underneath her shirt. Underwear is the last to come off before finally Casey is free of her burdens, exposed to the cool air of the bathroom. 

She stares down at her pale skin, marred by scars. Some self inflicted, others not. There are some that are barely visible white marks against the paleness of her belly, others are scrawling hypertrophic stripes with raised edges like a mountaintop. 

A faint knock at the door jolts her back into reality. “Uh.. I’m going to leave some things for you right here. When you come out I can put your clothes in the dryer.” Dennis’ voice is muffled by the door. “I’ll wash them for you too.” He adds, a little awkwardly. 

“Oh, thanks.” Casey thanks him and waits a little bit until she’s sure he’s gone before cautiously cracking the door.

There’s no one there and she pulls it open far enough to squeeze her arm through, feeling around blindly until she feels neatly folded clothes underneath her fingers. She grabs them and brings them into the bathroom with her, closing the door carefully. 

Casey makes the shower quick, not wanting to linger despite how warm and comforting the water is. She dries off and throws on the plain black t-shirt Dennis loaned her. The flannel sweatpants come next, the legs are a little too long and she ties the drawstring as tight as she comfortably can. 

Now dressed, Casey leaves the bathroom and turns out the light behind her, wet clothes folded in hand. Dennis is sitting in the living room, head tilted back against the top of the couch - barely dozing.

“Thanks for the clothes.” She says quietly, stirring him from his almost-sleep. “Let me put those in the wash.” Dennis says quietly, standing up to take her wet things from her. “Then we’re going to talk about this.” His tone is firm.

She nods and watches as he moves past her before settling on the couch. There’s the sound of water running into the washer and the lid closing before Dennis reappears a minute or two later, sitting opposite of her like he’s scared to get too close. 

“..What happened?” He asks, breaking the silence. “My uncle..” She pauses, and Dennis can see the gears turning in her head as she tries to find the best way to phrase things. 

“He went out with some old friends. Came home drunk.” Casey begins her explanation, thumbs nervously rubbing against one another as she speaks. “He was really, really drunk. I was in the kitchen and he came home, and…” She trails off, her gaze falling to the floor. 

Dennis’ expression holds a quiet anger in it but he remains quiet, letting her speak. “I pulled away. Managed to get out the front door.” Casey exhales shakily. “I just kept running. I didn’t really know what to do so… I called you.” She runs a hand through her damp hair, doing her best to work out a few of the tangles with her fingers. 

He shakes his head, staring at her. “You can’t go back there.” He says. “You can’t keep living like this Casey, eventually you have to tell someone.” Dennis presses. “I’m not doing that.” Casey says, but she knows he’s right. 

“I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have any other family, no money, I don’t have anything, Dennis.” Her voice shakes a little as she speaks, desperate. “I don’t have a chance.”

He rubs the back of his neck before letting his hand fall to his side again. “Then let me help you.” Dennis speaks suddenly. “I.. I was too scared, and I missed all of my chances.” Dennis admits, looking away from Casey. “But I don’t want you to miss any of yours.” 

It stays quiet for a moment before Casey finally speaks. “I don’t know how to do this..” She murmurs. “Don’t worry about it.” He assures her. “If your uncle tries anything, I’ll handle it.” Dennis adds and Casey is comforted if not a little amused by the thought. 

“Stay here tonight. I’ll sleep out here on the couch.” Dennis offers. “Everything will get worked out in the morning.” He adds.

Ease washes across Casey in a slow, warm wave at Dennis’ offer. “Thank you.” She says suddenly, looking up at him. “I’m serious, Dennis. You’ve helped me more than anyone ever bothered to.” Casey pulls her legs up underneath her and leans her head against the back of the couch. 

“I feel like I’ve only made things worse for you.” Dennis admits after a brief pause and Casey raises a brow. “Like your lip. That was my fault.” He murmurs. Casey shakes her head. “No. It’s not the first time he’s done something like that.” She assures him, but Dennis still seems apprehensive. 

“Besides… You would have never confronted me about it, and I never would have told you about any of it.” Casey continues, moving to get a little closer to him. 

Dennis tenses. 

“I wouldn’t have ever found the strength to tell someone.” Casey tucks a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “I’d still be out in the rain if it weren’t for you.” Casey has always hated the prospect of ‘everything happens for a reason.’

When her father died long ago, that was all she heard. Nothing in her life seemed to happen for any reason be it good or bad- but Dennis? Casey can’t help but feel like this was part of something higher, something destiny ordained for her. 

She’s glad her uncle busted her lip open. She’s glad the truck is a piece of shit and broke down; She’s glad she didn’t make an excuse to wait somewhere else the afternoon she met Dennis. Casey would do it all over again if it meant she could live in this very moment forever. 

Casey inches even closer. Dennis looks like he’s trying to materialize into the arm of the couch, she’s so close to him- just inches away. His heart has never beat faster.

“And you know what?” Her hand reaches up and she lays it on his chest, delicate and soft. “I like you too.” 

Her confession escapes her in a quiet whisper and for Dennis, the whole world seems to come screeching to a halt. “I never thought I would be able to tell you. I wanted to earlier, but…. You walked away before I could.” She continues, taking his hand in her free one. 

Dennis apprehensively accepts it, thumb carefully stroking slow circles on the back of her knuckles. He hopes she can’t feel his heart hammering in his chest. There’s so many things he wants to say but they congeal in his mind, unable to form into words. He remains quiet. 

“I don’t know who hurt you, Dennis. But I do know that you can still be happy too.” Her words sting like antiseptic on a cut, penetrating and cleansing.

“You’ve completely changed my life. I haven’t known you for that long but I don’t ever want to be without you.” She cocks a half-smile and Dennis wants to turn invisible. “R.. Really.” It comes out as more of a disbelieving statement than a question. “Really.” She assures him.

Casey squeezes his hand softly and he can feel it in his chest like her grip is somehow connected to his heart, palpating and warm. He’s never felt this vulnerable, not in his entire life and her face is so dangerously close to his. This close, he can see every smooth detail of her skin, a faded freckle left by the previous summer’s sun, the soft downy fuzz on her jaw. 

He wants to reach out and touch her, feel the softness of her cheek, he wants to feel her lips against his skin. Dennis knows his face is hot and red and he can’t hide it from her, not this time. 

“I won’t go anywhere.” Dennis whispers a promise, staring into her warm eyes. “I won’t either.” Casey murmurs. She’s never meant anything more in her entire life. There’s a faint pause, a hesitation before he slowly moves forward. 

Time liquefies into nothing. There’s nothing, nothing at all- just the softness of her lips against his own. The warm connection that snakes between them like a vine.

His thumb has ceased movement and Casey softly squeezes his hand before they disconnect, faces still close to one another’s. Her heart is beating hard and she can feel it in her ears and throat. He’s speechless, unable to believe he really just did that. 

There’s no more confusion or alarm bells ringing in his head, no overwhelming panic. There’s only love, gentle and kind. He wants to kiss her again, he wants to pull her close and feel her against his body, he wants to feel her pulse underneath her skin. 

Dennis reaches up with an unsteady hand and slowly rests it against her cheek, fingers working through her hair to settle against her scalp, thumb resting on her cheekbone. Casey presses against his touch ever so slightly and he feels like at any second he’ll burn up in her atmosphere. 

There’s an unbearable tension that bubbles between them and Casey revels in it. She’s wanted this for so long, and so has he. The silence between them is unbearable and Dennis slips his hand away. 

“Get some sleep.” His voice sounds choked, Casey still remains only a breath away from him. When she draws away it feels like someone’s pulling a knife out of his chest, slow and painful and he watches as she slips off of the couch. “You’re right. It’s pretty late.” Her cheeks are tinted pink and Dennis looks away from her, desperately fighting himself. 

Casey begins to head to the bedroom again when Dennis allows himself to look up at her once more. She pauses, hand against the frame of the door before slowly turning to meet his gaze. “Goodnight, Dennis.” There’s a calm, quiet smile that he’s never seen on her before and he thinks he might just suffocate under it. 

“Mhm. Sleep good.” He responds, watching as she ducks into the bedroom, door shutting behind her.

Love. He doesn’t understand it but he feels it and he knows that this is it, volcanic and placid all at once in his chest. He sits in place on the couch before he finally moves, the feeling of Casey’s lips against his own still remaining like the touch of a gentle ghost.


End file.
